Mine Part 2: Two Suns In The Sunset
by Bright Leo Star
Summary: Harry and Draco are now separated by their fears and frustrations and they each have to face their demons alone. Will they be able to find themselves in the end? explicit sexual content.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Harry Potter. Any recognisable characters, spells, places and story line belong to J.K Rowling and her associates. I am not making any money out of this. All the titles except "mine" are from Pink Floyd songs (again, they don't belong to me...)

**WARNING**: For the whole story: Explicit language, explicit sexual content, slash, drug use, bi-sexuality (don't know if it's really a warning, are people bothered by this?), angst, a bit of violence and WAFF (couldn't help myself...)  
For this chapter: Explicit language, a bit of violence, angst (and a man crying much more than I would think normal in real life but what can I say... I'm hopeless.)

**A/N**: This chapter and the next are very long... the longest I have ever written and I am afraid they are a bit boring. I loved writing them but perhaps reading will be harder. Please forgive me, this is the first time I have done a multi-chapter fic. As always, please review and let me know if you spot any spelling mistakes or grammar mistakes that I missed. If anyone is interested in being beta for this fic, please let me know.

I received a review from Cassandra offering to do this but I have no way to contact her, so please Cassandra, if you are reading this, I am very interested in you offer, can you send me a mail?

* * *

**Mine**

**By**

**Denebola Eltanin Black**

**Part 2: Two Suns in the Sunset**

**Chapter 1: Keep Talking**

Harry was looking out the enormous windows in Grimmauld Place's drawing room remembering the last few months. He had spent the last two months completely redoing the house. Or more like he had declared war against the house and won it after hundreds of bloody battles. It had all started that 12th of august he had been forcefully Apparated out of Malfoy Manor with all his clothes in his arms. He had tried to get back in again but the wards turned menacingly on him, Dark magic whispering all sorts of tortures he would be getting if he dared to enter. He dressed and went home, trying to talk to Draco through the floo only to find it closed to him. His owls returned with the envelopes untouched.

He knew he could always try to contact Draco through his mother. Narcissa had made a habit out of fire-calling him every week or so since the beginning of the summer. He didn't know if it was because she knew what her son and Harry did most of their time or if she was sincerely interested in his life but he had found a rather unlikely conversation partner in her. She never mentioned Draco except to tell Harry about some event in her life that concerned him and she was never too pushy to get information from him. She was always calm and they simply made unimportant small talk for fifteen minutes or half an hour. He liked her; she never expected anything from him at all. He had never really told Draco this, just that his mother had called him once and even that Draco seemed to dislike. Draco always kept him away from his mother and Harry respected that. He wouldn't say anything to Mrs Malfoy about their "relationship".

On the night of the 12th Hermione came to Grimmauld Place with her eyes shining with rage and disappointment.

"How could you Harry? How cold you do that to her?" She demanded to know, her hair was more unruly than ever and Harry had the image of an enraged Medusa, he was almost afraid of looking at her but he forced those silly thoughts out of his mind and called upon his Gryffindor courage to help him.

But what could he say? He had known all along he was hurting Ginny, he had known all along he was in love with Draco Malfoy and he was just using Ginny to have a family. He thought he cared about Ginny but now that he looked at it objectively it was plain that he didn't care enough for her to even explain what happened. What a bastard!

"Harry! Why didn't you go?" Harry sighed, he had no idea what to tell her. Should he tell the truth? Hermione would probably forgive him after a while but he didn't know if he could tell her. The guilt was too overwhelming, the pain of Draco's rejection too fresh. His eyes were full of tears before he could stop them. He tried to breath to will them away.

"Harry? What's wrong?" _Please Hermione, just shut up_.

"I fucked up…" he whispered and he knew it meant a lot more to him than to her, yes he felt like shit for hurting Ginny but it paled in comparison to the guilt he felt for having brought Draco close to tears.

"Yes, you did. I won't deny that. But Ginny is willing to forgive you if you apologise to her. Everything going to be all right in the end, you two love each other. Please Harry, tell me what happened." Her rage had apparently morphed temporarily into pity, Harry didn't know which was worst. He tried to open his mouth to say something, anything, but the words didn't come out. He went to the drawing room simply because he needed to walk. Hermione followed him looking worried. "You know she will forgive you right?"

Harry shook his head to tell her to shut up, to say that he didn't really want Ginny's forgiveness or at least not in that way. The thought of having to go back to her made him shiver. How could he have stayed with her so long? What kind of a person has a back up girlfriend just in case his real love doesn't work? He was sick! And now he had lost Draco and he didn't even understand why. What had changed the day before? Why couldn't Draco see him anymore? What had he done to make him cry? He had to be really sick to hurt the one person he cared the most about.

Hermione was talking, he had the feeling she had been talking for a while, repeating that Ginny would forgive him, that they belonged together and Harry felt the nausea hit him. He was disgusted with himself. He had deceived his best friend so well she didn't knew him at all anymore. He had been an awful friend, a real jerk, a bastard as a boyfriend and he had made Draco cry. He ran to the guest's loo that was the closest to the drawing room and emptied his stomach on the tiles unable to reach the toilet in time. His throat burned and his eyes watered.

"Harry! Are you OK? Do you want to go to St. Mungo's?" Harry shook his head, there was no cure for his decease. He took out his wand, cleaned the mess on the tiles and rinsed his mouth and face. Hermione just didn't stop talking. It seemed she was under the impression he had missed the party because he was sick and that made him feel even worst. He deserved to be hated by her. He went back to the drawing room hoping she would get the idea of using the floo and leave him alone. She didn't. She talked and cried and tried to make him talk but he just couldn't answer. He sat there facing the fire completely overwhelmed with hatred and disgust for himself. He missed Draco so much, it was like every cell of his body was pulling him towards the blond, there was no way to reach him but his body didn't seem to understand that.

The fire suddenly turned green and Hermione stopped talking. A second later Mrs. Malfoy's head appeared in the fireplace. She looked up at him and Hermione started talking again, demanding to know what _she_ was doing there. He registered her eyes widening and as a flash he saw Draco's doing the same thing. He shook his head a little to hold back the tears that where desperate to come out and sat in front of her trying to gather enough breath and courage to speak. He respected her a great deal and he really didn't want to be impolite to her. But all he could see was how similar the shape of her lips was to Draco's and how her skin was the exact same shade as his. His tears ran out and he could do nothing to stop them. He heard a soft "Oh my…" and he tried to get away from the fireplace. It took him all the strength he had in him to say:

"I– I'm sorry, Mrs. Malfoy. I don't think I am the best co–company right now." In between sobs. Hermione had gone quiet in shock. . He was trying to hide his face from them. How embarrassing could this get? "Per–Perhaps later?" He was hoping she would cut the firecall quickly. But images of Draco were flooding his head now the dam was broken and nothing could stop them. He fell on his butt and broke down completely. Sobs racked his body and tears ran down his cheeks. Why? Why had Draco pushed him away so suddenly? What had he done wrong? Was it something he did? Something he said? Was he no longer good enough even to get a little piece of Draco?

He was suddenly enveloped in a warm embrace. A sweet smell filled his nostrils and soft silk caressed his arms and face. His forehead was pressed against something cool: her sapphire necklace. It wasn't Hermione holding him, it was Mrs. Malfoy. He didn't try to see Hermione's face. As he tremblingly closed his arms around her waist for support he felt the softness of her long wavy hair. It was something he had never felt, not even with Mrs. Weasley. He felt the strangest surge of possessiveness towards Mrs. Malfoy. Like all this little details that made her were there for him and only for him just for that moment. But it wasn't sexual at all and for a moment he was completely baffled as to what on earth could cause that feeling until it occurred to him that just for that one moment it felt like his mother was holding him. He held her tighter and cried his heart out, seeking comfort in her beauty, in her scent, in her softness and the love she was giving him so freely.

He didn't know how long he stayed there crying but eventually he fell asleep in her arms.

* * *

Hermione looked warily at Narcissa Malfoy as the perfectly elegant woman searched all the cabinets in the kitchen for cups. Of course, Hermione knew very well Harry had placed them in the cabinet next the door but she wasn't going to make it easier on the woman who had watched as she was tortured.

"What exactly are you doing here Mrs. Malfoy?" she burst out unable to keep her questions in anymore. Harry had been so completely unresponsive and she was dying to get some answers even if it wasn't to the main questions.

"I am making some tea for Harry. He seems to need it." Hermione wanted to hit her but instead she asked:

"Since when do you call him 'Harry'?"

"I've called him Harry a few times in the last few months."

"What makes you think you are welcomed here?" Mrs. Malfoy finally turned sharply to look at her. Her face was contorted in disgust. _There_ thought Hermione _that's your true face_. Mrs. Malfoy seemed to be counting to ten and her face softened.

"Firstly I have to inform you that this is the house where I grew up and considering who your parents are I think it is safe to assume I more welcomed here than you." Her voice was hard and cold at the end but Hermione didn't back down. She was frustrated with Harry and with this whole thing she couldn't understand.

"This is Harry's house now, he decides who's welcomed and who's not. Who lived in this house before doesn't matter." Mrs. Malfoy snorted and looked disdainfully at Hermione.

"In that statement you have revealed how little you know about wizarding traditions and about your friend."

"What is that supposed to mean?!" snarled the fuzzy-haired girl. Narcissa sighed.

"Harry and I have kept in contact since he left school. I am forever grateful because he saved the life of my son and I am here taking care of him because I have come to appreciate him and I noticed his friends don't seem to realise he needs time to process whatever it is that happened." Hermione stared in shock as the words sunk into her brain. It was true, Harry obviously needed some space and all she did was demand answers. "As for the wizarding traditions I suggest you look for books that explains place magic which is something that every pureblood child of six knows but that isn't taught at Hogwarts because Dumbledore banned it in his irrational hatred of pureblood traditions. Now, where are the cups?"

* * *

He woke up at the smell of tea and knew he had been sleeping for at least an hour. He was still in the drawing room, on the couch with a fluffy and comfortable blanket surrounding him. He sat up as he saw Mrs. Malfoy approaching with a tray in her hands with three cups of hot tea and biscuits. It looked out of place in her arms. She was there, probably the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, dressed in the most expensive blue silk robes with a big sapphire on her throat, silver high heels, silver diadem holding some of her hair up on the back of her head and the rest of it falling in waves down her back, silver and white-gold rings on her fingers and just overall completely flawless. She was there on the musky drawing room with rotting curtains, a couch that looked as if a werewolf had attacked it, a low table of dark wood with deep scars of whatever spells had hit it. And she had a silver platter on her hands, like that was a normal thing for her to have and her face showed nothing but kindness. It was so much contrast Harry couldn't help but smile even if every movement, every look reminded him of Draco.

She smiled back and sat with a lot of decorum next to him on the old couch, setting the tray on the table. Without a word she handed him a cup of tea and took her own sipping a little before putting it back. Harry took a deep breath.

"I'm so sorry you had to see that Mrs. Malfoy." He whispered and heard a cough from behind him. Hermione was leaning against the door-frame with a grim look on her face. He turned back to Mrs. Malfoy figuring he would deal with Hermione later. It was still hard for him to speak but it was a lot easier than it had been before his little breakdown. "You have been so kind. If there is anything I can do, anything at all to repay your kindness…"

"Harry" She said softly but effectively cutting him off. She cupped his cheek with her palm. "We all have our difficult times when we just need someone to holds us through it. I am very honoured to be able to that for you. You don't have to repay anything." She looked at him significantly and he knew she was trying to say that she would always be grateful for Draco's life. It made him a little uncomfortable but he had figured out sometime after the war that the bond created by gratitude was deeper than most bonds.

"Thank you Mrs. Malfoy."

"Now, I know just the cure for a broken heart like yours." Her eyes suddenly gleamed with a sort of excitement Harry didn't understand at all, especially when he was focussing more on her last words. He heard Hermione draw a breath like she was about to talk but he beat her to it.

"How…" he started but she shushed him softly.

"Oh, I wouldn't be much of a mother if I can't know a broken heart for what it is when I see one. And…" She stopped a little abruptly but then she smiled again, a little ruefully. "I was young once too, a long time ago." Harry wanted to say that it wasn't that long ago, that she was so beautiful and fresh she could still be considered young, but he supposed she already knew that.

"Okay." He breathed. "So what would be the cure for a broken heart?" He looked down to his lap ashamed at how weak and earnest he sounded.

"Wha…" started Hermione but Mrs. Malfoy raised her hand to silence her and walked around the room with a strange expression on her face.

"You need a project. Something that won't be too stressful but that requires your almost constant attention and where you can see the results as you go." He panicked a little; he wasn't ready at all to begin his training to be an Auror. He wasn't even sure he wanted to do that now. And what other "project" could he be interested in? Mrs. Malfoy went on. "I think I know what it could be…. Yes, you do need to clean the energy around here." He looked at her in confusion as she stared at him expectantly as if he should understand what she meant. He looked at Hermione in confusion but she was glaring at Mrs. Malfoy and didn't notice.

Mrs. Malfoy sighed. "The house Mr. Potter. I think you should redecorate the house completely. Make it your home." She looked around. "I grew up here. It wasn't as bad as it is now but it was already filled with history and evil. It wasn't possible to have a healthy life in here. And that was before Aunt Walburga's years of madness when her whole family either died, went to Azkaban or abandoned her in the same year." Harry jaw had dropped a long time ago. He could feel two things stirring inside him he hadn't thought he could feel anymore. The first was a very muted, but still there, excitement at the challenge of changing the whole house. The second was curiosity over the history of Sirius's family. Sirius had always been very short, cruel and snappish whenever he told anything about his family but Harry knew there was more to it, a lot more. Starting with Regulus who had turned against Voldemort. He was contemplating where he would start changing the house when the fire turned green for the third time that day. Maybe it would be Draco… No, Draco had completely left Harry. The tears threatened to come once more but he held them back.

It wasn't Draco, but he already knew that. It was Ron, his face was red and he looked thoroughly pissed.

"Where the hell have you been?" He bellowed. Then he seemed to notice they weren't alone. "And what is _she_ doing here?" he pointed at Mrs. Malfoy rudely.

Mrs. Malfoy had gone quite still standing next to couch, facing the hearth with one hand gracefully resting on the back of the couch. She looked like she was posing for a portrait. For a whole minute they were all frozen looking at each other and then, with an ease that made Harry's heart yearn for Draco, Mrs. Malfoy went to Ron and bowed a little in greeting.

"Good evening Mr. Weasley" The look of shock on Ron's face almost made Harry laugh but then his friend's face contorted in disgust and he ignored the greeting. "I think I'll be going now, Mr. Potter. I'll come back tomorrow to discuss our project."

"Good night Mrs. Malfoy. Thank you for coming." She smiled and without a single glace at Ron, disappeared in the green flames.

"That's it Harry, spit it out or I'll beat the crap out of you!" Spat Ron nastily.

"Ron!" cried Hermione scandalized.

"No Hermione. I told him, I told him not to hurt her! She has been crying all day! I only came now because she finally fell asleep, I want an explanation and I want it now!"

Harry knew this was it, if he didn't say anything right now he would loose his best friend and possibly the only family he ever dared to consider his own. But they weren't his family, they would all be on Ginny's side supporting her because that's what family does. He knew he was the one who had fucked up and he didn't had the right to ask any support from anyone but now more than ever he missed having a real family, someone who would always stand by him even if he messed up badly. But the only thing he could do now was savage whatever was left of his relationships with the Weasleys. Even he couldn't go back to Ginny as a boyfriend maybe if he did things right in time they would forgive him enough to allow him to be a friend again.

"Alright." He whispered. Hermione eyed him worriedly.

"Are you sure Harry?" Harry wanted to hug her. She had probably understood from his earlier behaviour that he needed time and that he was in a lot of pain. But his pain wouldn't matter to the Weasleys.

"Yes. I can't answer all your questions but I'll do my best." Ron huffed and sat down.

"Why didn't you show up last night?" he asked.

"I lost track of time."

"Where were you?"

"I can't tell you that…"

"Wha…!"

"Who were you with?" that was Hermione, trying to make things easier, but it wasn't.

"I can't tell you that either but we've been seeing each other for some time."

"Oh, Harry! You promised me you would stop it!"

"You knew! Never mind… Harry you were cheating on Ginny?" Ron started shaking his head in disgust. "How could you?"

"I'm sorry. I know it was a very shitty thing to do but it just happened."

"Just happened?! Once, I believe it 'just happened' but for months! That doesn't 'just happen'!" Shouted Ron, Hermione placed a hand on his arm to calm him but he shrugged it off.

"Look, Ron, I am sorry. I know there is nothing I can say to make it better. I know I should have ended things with Ginny but I cared for her a lot, I wanted to be part of your family and I thought I was doing the right thing by staying with her. But this other person… I just couldn't stop. I knew I was doing something really bad but I couldn't help myself. In fact, I don't think I really wanted it to stop…" His heart was yearning for Draco. How could he have been so stupid? It was clear that staying with Ginny so long had been a mistake now. How could he ever think that what he felt for her could replace what he felt for Draco?

"Wait." Ron looked confused. "So, you're not sorry to have fucked someone else, you're sorry you didn't break up with Ginny earlier" his ears were going red now and Harry knew it wasn't going to be easy.

"You love her!" cried Hermione like she had just won a thousand galleons. "You love this woman you have been seeing! That's why you couldn't stop! That's why you did that to Ginny. Oh! It all makes sense now, how could I not see it before. Your love was stronger than your morals and we know how strong they are! That's romantic." Ron looked as if he had been slapped in the face as he listened to Hermione's rant. She caught the look and hurried to correct herself. "But what you did was very bad Harry!" then with more conviction: "You shouldn't have stayed with Ginny if you loved someone else, you hurt her badly."

"I know." Harry whispered feeling miserable but a bit glad that Hermione understood what he had been feeling. That was until he saw Ron's face: it was almost purple and his eyes shone with anger.

"You are going to leave her." He said grinding his teeth.

"Yes." Harry breathed, afraid of what was to come. It came in the shape of Ron's fist on his cheek. He heard a nasty CRACK and knew something was broken. The searing pain in his cheekbone confirmed this. Hermione was shouting at Ron and trying to calm him. She succeeded partially because Ron didn't hit him anymore but he did say in his coldest voice:

"You will be welcomed in The Burrow once to tell Ginny whatever you have to tell her and then never again. You're a selfish son of a bitch Harry, I can't believe I thought of you as a friend." Harry closed his eyes in defeat.

"Ron…" he tried but he already knew it was too late. Ron, his first friend of his age, the one who had been with him in all his adventures, in his long battle against Voldemort, his best friend was lost. Harry had lost him.

"No, Harry, it's not only because of Ginny. You lied to me for months and you promised me you wouldn't hurt her. I'm sorry but that's not what you expect from a friend."

"I know…" His cheek was hurting, his eyes were burning, there was a lump in his throat and he felt like shit.

"Be at the Burrow tomorrow at eleven, I'll make sure no one's there." With that Ron disappeared in the green flames. Harry remained trying to wrap his head over the fact that he had lost his best friend.

"Let me see that" Hermione said turning his head to heal the damage on his cheek. "He'll come round"

"No, he won't"

That night his dreams were full of fingers pointing at him and people he loved crying. His parents were disappointed. Sirius was disappointed; even Remus and Tonks were disappointed. And Draco, Draco was silent, his eyes filled with tears like they had been the last time he saw him.

* * *

Eleven o'clock the next day came too quickly. It had been a rough morning but Hermione had helped him through it. He came to The Burrow with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach; it was the last time he would be allowed in this house. All the happy memories came rushing into his mind at once and he had to use all his strength not to break down again. Ginny was in her room. He hated the fact that they would have to talk there because it wasn't neutral ground at all but he figured he didn't have much opinion in the matter and went up anyway.

The last time he had been in this room he had been snogged by Ginny. It had been a good kiss, he remembered that. But one that paled in comparison to the ones he had shared with Draco.

"Harry, I don't know exactly what happened yesterday but I did a lot of thinking and I want you to know that I am ready to forgive anything and move on with you. I love you. I want to get back together." Harry took a deep breath. So, Ron hadn't tried to make it any easier. This was going to be hell. He knew it was irrational to feel disgusted by her eagerness, that it was cruel, but he couldn't help it. All he could do was try to break it to her as smoothly but as firmly as possible.

"I'm sorry Ginny. There are a lot of things I'm sorry for and for which I need to ask forgiveness." She nodded. "But that doesn't mean I want to get back together with you." Her face fell.

"What?!" she shrieked and Harry blinked, he hadn't expected that reaction. Ginny was always understanding and patient. "Why?!"

"I love you Ginny, but only as a friend, even as a sister but not as a lover." Well, that wasn't too smooth, but he didn't know any other way than to tell her things clearly. He had never wanted her. He had only wanted Draco. Draco's scent, Draco's skin, Draco's lips, Draco's stormy eyes. Ginny was pretty but he didn't feel attracted to her.

"Since when?!" They were tears in her eyes and Harry looked away, he was making too many people cry lately.

"I don't… Perhaps since we came back to Hogwarts after the war." He cringed, beating himself up violently in his head.

"WHAT??!! ALL THIS TIME?" She seemed to puff up in indignation, her face turned red. She glared at Harry like he was Lord Voldemort in flesh. "What I am to you? Am I some sort of toy you can play with? Why did you came back to me if you didn't love me? Was it all part of some sick game of yours? You made me think we would be married! I had my life set at your disposal you idiot! How could you trick me like that?" Her face was contorted with rage and tears ran freely down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry Ginny. That's one of the things I ask you to forgive me for, I should have ended it back then but I wanted to love you. I wanted to have what we had before…"_she will not forgive you, I wouldn't forgive you_.

"Oh, I know! This is because of that bitch! That's it, she convinced you that you didn't love me anymore!" Ginny's face seemed to glow with hope for a moment. "That's all, isn't it? You do love me, you're just confused by the lust you felt for whoever you were seeing but it's me you really love, right?"

"No Ginny, I really don't love you like that." He tried to keep her away from the cheating bit but she caught on with his tactic at once.

"I know it's all because of that whore!"

"What are you talking about?" Harry's fists clenched, even if it was irrational to be enraged because Ginny didn't even know who she was insulting, his heart screamed for him to defend Draco.

"OH! Don't you play innocent with me!" She shoved her finger in his face and for a second she looked exactly like Mrs. Weasley. "Everyone noticed Harry! Everyone knew you spend half your nights away from your dormitory! Everyone thought I was stupid not to say or do anything!" She started laughing madly with the tears still running down her cheeks. He hated that. He had liked about her that she didn't often cry, now all her face was wet with tears and snot and she was completely disgusting.

" 'Ginny, don't you see he's cheating on you?' 'Why do you keep letting him get away with it?' 'Have you no self-respect?' FUCK! And all I thought was 'He needs some time after the war' 'He will come round' 'We are meant to be together, he would never leave me forever'. We were supposed to be the couple that could endure through everything!" She took a deep breath and looked at a dumbstruck Harry. "There is only one thing I want to know. Who is the bitch who took you away from me?"

Harry stayed quiet. So, all the understanding and the patience Ginny showed was all based on the belief that they were indestructible and would end up together in the end? He had never thought about his relationship with her like that. Suddenly he had the impression he could understand the way Ginny's mind worked. She had been so sure, so completely convinced that their relationship would be forever she had forgiven everything, anything. Ginny, the strong girl, the understanding girl, the mature girl got all her strength from certainties in her life and he had just taken the most important one away from her. Harry could see her in a detached sort of way, no longer charmed by her, he could see her as a whole. They could never work out. He was living in the uncertainty of his life completely. He didn't know what he was going to do, what he was going to study. He didn't know what his talents were. He didn't know who he was at all now that he had killed Voldemort. She needed certainties and he had none.

"Tell me Harry, who is she? Was she so good in bed you couldn't resist? Did she give good head? Did you like the way she moaned?" Ginny's face was redder than her hair and she looked half crazed. Harry's heart began bleeding for Draco again, yes, he had been too good to resist, yes, he gave amazing head, yes, he adored the way he moaned.

"Why Harry? We are destined to be together! I have been waiting for you since I was ten years old! _I_ am the girlfriend of Harry Potter! No one else! Why can't you see it?"

"The girlfriend of Harry Potter?" he repeated in disbelief. "Did _you_ ever love me Ginny? Or do you just love being _the girlfriend of Harry Potter_? Do you even know who I am?" It seemed so clear now, Ginny had idolised him since she first saw him _because_ he was Harry Potter. She was like all the others, like all the stupid girls with love potions. She had just been lucky enough to be his best friend's sister. "You don't love me Ginny, you never did. It was all about being the girlfriend of someone famous and rich."

She made a sort of war cry and threw herself at Harry punching his chest.

"IT'S ALL BECAUSE OF HER!! TELL ME WHO SHE IS! WHY IS SHE BETTER THAN ME?" He tried to keep her away but she managed to hit his ribs several times

"ANSWER ME!!! WAS SHE THAT GOOD?" She punched him accentuating every word. "WHO IS SHE? WHO!" She sobbed. "Why was she better than me Harry? Was it really the sex? Was the sex good?" Harry couldn't take it anymore. He yearned for Draco, he was completely overwhelmed.

"YES!!" he screamed. "THE SEX WAS BRILLIANT! _SHE_ WAS BRILLIANT! AND I FUCKING FELL IN LOVE!" He stopped as he heard what he was saying. Ginny had stopped too, with her fist in the air in the middle of a hit, her mouth gaping and her eyes bulging.

"Ginny, I'm sorry, I didn't want it to come out that way." Her fists fell limp and she closed her mouth. "I should have told a long time ago. I really screwed up but I don't want to loose your friendship…"

"Out!" Ginny said.

"Ginny please, can we talk for a bit." He wanted to end this the right way. He would loose the family completely if he didn't.

"OUT!"

"Ginny…"

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY ROOM!"

Harry obeyed and went out the room, down the stairs and into the kitchen where all the family was again gathered and looked horror-stricken. Damn Ron, he couldn't do anything easy, could he?

"I'm sorry Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. I didn't want to ruin your day. I guess I should go." He practically ran out of kitchen, out of the house and Apparated home.

He wanted to crawl to bed and stay there. What had he expected really? That everyone just accepted that he had been fucking someone else as he was still officially with Ginny? He had been so centred in his own grief he hadn't really cared what they thought. But they were his family and now he had lost them.

* * *

The next two months were crazy. Harry's mind constantly replayed his 'relationship' with Draco second by second. How they had started, all the conversations they had had, every time they were in bed. And especially that last afternoon together. He thought about Draco as he battled doxies and Dark Magic. He thought about Draco when he and Mrs. Malfoy went to the greatest shops in the world to pick this or that chair or lamp or bed. He thought about Draco on those cold nights he had spent when the windows in the house hadn't been placed yet. Hermione was with him almost all the time. Mrs. Malfoy came and went, sometimes she disappeared for three or four days and then she came back, never helping with any manual work but always suggesting the best way to get a table through the door or to break a curse.

He would also think about the Weasleys, none of them tried to contact him so he assumed he really had lost them all. He had lost almost everyone he loved. But during that time the loss that most burdened his soul was Draco's.

Several times, especially during the first few weeks he would collapse in tears and ask the air "Why? Why? What did I do?" and Hermione or Mrs. Malfoy would hold him until he regained his composure. But slowly, very slowly, as the house began to make sense again, as the family heirlooms were carefully inspected and sorted and selected to stay or go, Harry began to accept that he would never know the answer to that. He learned to live with it as we all have to learn to live without knowing why we are here or who created us or where we will go after we die. Harry still thought about Draco. He still ached for him. His very skin seemed to call for the blond god. He sometimes associated the pain with the pain a heroin addict must feel when he are forced to stop abruptly. But slowly, very slowly, the pain became a little less unbearable.

Those were probably the longest two months of his life. Each day held it's own battle, against the house and against himself. Hermione was obviously trying very hard not to pressure him. She never asked to many questions or stopped if Harry gave her a meaningful look.

Finally, at the end of the second month, the house was done, safe for some small details like where to put the Greek statue of a dragon curled around an apple tree that Harry knew had something to do with Hercules but didn't really remember the story. And Harry felt it was time to stop hiding and go out of the house. He knew that even if he wanted to cry sometimes he wouldn't collapse anymore at the most inappropriate moments. He told Hermione he was ready and her, with a big smile on her face, made arrangements to go to a photograph exhibition that apparently had received the best critics of… whatever.

His insides were churning and his hands were sweating and every minute or so he felt a pang of sadness as his thoughts came back to Draco, as they always did. He heard a ruffle behind him and turned to see Hermione dusting her robes.

"Are you ready, Har… Oh! You look great!" She clapped her hands excitedly.

Another one of Mrs. Malfoy's "projects" was to create a complete wardrobe for Harry (she even forced him to make a room specifically for that purpose). She had also made him go a Healer who in a few minutes corrected Harry's eyesight for a grotesque price, of course. So now, all he had to wear were expensive designer clothes, muggle and wizard. Even the jeans looked expensive. In the end he had just let her do what she wanted and tried to memorise all the rules she told him about dressing in a pure-blood environment (where a colour and a picture it's significance) and simple colour matching rules. So now he was wearing a pair of black trousers he loved because they had a very subtle silvery design of a dragon that could only be seen with a certain light. Mrs. Malfoy had called them "casual but with a lot of potential". Of course, they made him think about Draco, but what didn't? And he was wearing black formal shoes and a green Cashmere sweater with a white shirt underneath. Mrs. Malfoy would have called his look today extremely simple but then he often went with simplicity.

"Thanks" he muttered.

"Oh, come on! It's going to be great! All the great critics are going to be there and all the best photographers. It's amazing how many people it's gathering. I heard it's a very young artist too. Everyone is going to see it… it's HUGE!" Hermione had developed a sort of obsession for muggle photography and Ron and Harry had been forced to listen to her ramblings about it for hours. Now he had to listen to her alone. She had even filled his house with artistic photographs, which he liked, but he wasn't going to admit that to her because then she would go completely over the top. He managed to smile at her sadly. "You'll see. I'm sure it's going to be great!"

They Apparated in a dark alley not far from the gallery and walked the rest of the way. Hermione had been right, it was incredibly crowded and only after a long wait they were able to get in. He instantly liked the photographs. Most of them were portraits of very different people, young ladies, children, old and wrinkled men...

"See that one, I love the colours" Hermione said pointing at one of a woman playing the accordion, the colours were all shades of red with a bit of black, it gave it a very dramatic look. They walked around looking at all the photos. Harry had to admit he was enjoying himself. The photos were great. They were about to leave when a woman mentioned there was another room where the best pictures were. As they entered the room Harry felt his heart stop for a second. Half the photos in the room were portraits of a very familiar face, a face he loved and adored but that never seemed so beautiful as in those pictures.

"Harry," Hermione whispered in his ear. "That's Draco Malfoy isn't it?"

It was. But they weren't just normal pictures of Draco, they were pictures of Draco's soul the way Harry had always known it was but had never seen it so clearly. They showed Draco in all his complexity, the sensuality, the beauty, the danger, the pain, the past that troubled him, the innocence he still managed to retain after all that happened. It was Draco, beautiful because of all the contradictions, beautiful because of all the complexity.

"He's so…" Hermione seemed to scramble her brain for the words. "sad."

Harry couldn't answer. It wasn't only sad for him it was magnificent. The one they were standing in front of now showed Draco with his arms above his head, clearly dancing but his eyes were so troubled it was impossible to see it only as a sexy dance. Harry couldn't breath, he could only walk to next photo and then to the next until they arrived at the largest and most impressive of all. Draco was standing next to a window with all the sun in his hair, he was shirtless and there was a tear running down his cheek. He heard a sob next to him and managed to tear his eyes from the photo to look at Hermione. She was crying softly. He put and arm around her shoulders to comfort her.

"I'm sorry." She sobbed. "It's just… it's like all the pain from the war is just there, you know. It's like he's crying for all that was lost."

"Yes, it is." He whispered placing a kiss on her head and looking at the picture again.

"It's always surprising to see people react so strongly to one of my photos." Said a soft voice behind them and Harry turned quickly to see whom it was. It was a very tall, olive-skinned, handsome young man.

"Are you the artist?" he asked cautiously thinking this man knew Draco and trying to keep the jealousy and envy away from his heart. But this man had done something so beautiful he couldn't be mad at him, so it wasn't hard.

"I am" he replied simply looking at the picture with what could only be described as pride.

"How did you know him?" Hermione asked and Harry wanted to hug her. The man's eyes shot to them and examined them carefully.

"Do _you_ know him?" His head was tilted to the side as if he could see more in them that way.

"We do… we went to school with him." Hermione informed. "We weren't very close to him…" she trailed off, wisely stopping her massive understatement. Harry averted his eyes lest they gave him away. A tiny little woman with bright red hair approached them and whispered something in the man's ear. He sighed.

"I have to go, it was nice talking to you." The man looked at them as if trying to remember every detail. "If you… want to continue this conversation I'm going to be here every night for about week." He left without waiting for an answer.

"That was strange wasn't it?" Hermione asked but Harry was too busy looking at the man's back. The look on his face… it was like he wanted to say something but what? Could this man help him to see Draco? "He didn't even answer my question." She was obviously a little upset by that, if there was one thing she hated was people not answering her questions.

"No, he didn't." Harry whispered and for the first time in two months he felt a tiny little bit of hope.


	2. Chapter 2

Hello everyone. First, thanks for all those wonderful reviews! And second, I'm sorry, I'm very very sorry for the late chapter, my muse decided she needed vacations at the worst possible time, she's back now, a bit lazy and slow but back. I hope I can publish the next chapter this Sunday. This chapter is a bit weird, perhaps too long and could be a bit boring, I hope you like it anyway. Enjoy!

If you see any mistakes please let me know and I'll correct it.

**Warnings: Explicit language, drug use, bi-sexuality, angst**

**Chapter 2: Your Possible Pasts**

Blaise had once told him that after sleeping only three hours several nights in a row his body would stop needing so much sleep. It wasn't true. He felt like shit. His muscles hurt. His back was killing him. He was cranky. He desperately needed a massage. He had even started to watch muggle films now. He was really going crazy. Books, that was alright, music, well muggles did have more talent for it than wizards, paintings, well, there was some charm to the whole still picture thing. But movies? They were like repetitive wizard paintings. At least the portraits could talk back. Movies were made for people who have no one to talk to so they need some sort of illusion that someone is talking to them. But it didn't matter anymore. He didn't want to talk to anyone so movies were just fine now.

His thoughts collided in contradiction. He was trying to follow his super ego but his id was clearly pulling him down with all kinds of plots (1). _Really, selfishness is not that bad, only deluded people believe it is. Everyone is selfish, why can't you be? Are you really trying to do the good thing or are you just scared? How can it be the right thing when you know you are hurting him? You see it everyday, the girl who always comes back to the bastard who hits her; the fat, ugly and poor woman who got an eighteen year old as a lover; the tortured artist that fell in love with an ignorant bint who crushes his ego and ruins his work. They don't deserve what they have but they have it anyway. Why should you be any different?_ But of course he knew those were thoughts that came from the unconscious need to get laid and hurt people. And there was that nagging little thought… _Don't think about it._

He even thought for a moment that he was idolising a Gryffindor sort of moral because his parents were no real models to follow. So he followed now the morals of the only person he thought actually had and followed morals: Harry bloody Potter. But what else could he do? It was a paradox actually because to deserve Harry he had to give up on him. He felt like Valmont (2), falling in love of the most prude and religious woman and having to live up to her standards. Two weeks. Two weeks locked up in his room reading muggle books, watching muggle movies, and listening to muggle music. Why? Because he had already read and listened everything of value in the wizarding world. And somehow it felt good to do something his father would disapprove completely, probably that was the only thing that felt good. The fact was that wizards had the horrible idea that books were only valuable if they had academic information. That lead to a population that was normally aware of almost all that was possible with magic but it killed the imagination and creativity. And Draco was in no mood to read about anything remotely related to study.

Two weeks. Narcissa had noticed something was wrong at once, obviously because she knew him so well. But she didn't say anything and Draco was grateful for it. He didn't want her to force him to look at things he didn't want to see.

His mind was fuzzy and nonsensical. Flashes of green eyes, sexy abs… The feeling of wild curly hair between his fingers. How long could those remaining impressions last on his skin and on his mind? How long could he stand it? In the dead of night the high windows seemed awfully attractive, his wand itched in his hand, the fear consumed him. Oh, yes, he had to accept a large part of it all was fear. How could he expose himself like that to anyone? Would Harry love him if he knew his soul? If he saw this pathetic excuse of a human being, hiding in a room, having suicidal thoughts, would he still love him? No, he would pity him. His lips curled in disgust. He was doing the right thing, for Harry and for himself. He wouldn't survive if Harry rejected him after showing him his soul without any make-up. And Harry would probably reject him. He, Draco, rejected his own thoughts… _Don't think about it. _And he would hurt Harry. He had to keep himself convinced of that.

The lights changed as the movie continued. The actor looked like Draco felt, like shit. "When you have insomnia, you're never really asleep... and you're never really awake." (3) Haha… now the movie was talking about him. Sometimes it really seemed like a magical painting making fun of him.

A knock on the door. Damn it. He didn't want to see his mother. He didn't want his mother to see him. That way she would stay in the dark longer, she will not intervene. He knew what she would say and he didn't want to hear it, he was trying not to listen to his mother's voice in his head. He couldn't handle the real thing.

"Draco? Are you awake?" _No mother I am not_. It wouldn't even be a lie. She would leave. Lately she spent a lot of time out. Perhaps she had a lover now. Not that Draco would care about such things. He heard the steps going away and sighed in relief. He was safe for another few hours.

He didn't want it anymore. He didn't like his mind very much now. It was like a freaking battlefield that was only slightly subdued by movies, music and books. No, he needed something else. Something that could silence the war, even if it was only for a little while.

* * *

The atmosphere was dark and evil as he walked through Knockturn Alley. People lay on the side, each one victim of their own addiction or mental disease. A young man with no teeth was looking at him with such lust and bliss in his face Draco had to pause to see if his hood still covered his face. But as he went by the guy continued looking at the place where he had been before. A girl dressed only with a miniature skirt and torn stocking with her big breasts on display came to him and placed a hand on his chest pressing her boobs to his arm. He could feel her hard nipples.

"Oh! We have a body under that big cloak of yours!" she giggled making her dark curls bounce slightly. He pressed his wand to her neck and she stepped back with her hands on display. "We have beautiful boys too if you want." She said and her face had changed completely. No longer the stupid girl, she was a woman who had seen too much. Draco swept the group of young man leaning against the wall with his eyes, they hadn't been there a minute ago, he was sure of it. He took a deep breath and took a step nearer. Blond boy, no. Tall dark boy, no. Hmmm… curly black hair. He raised a hand to cup the boy's chin and lift his head. He had a sweet face with full red heart-shaped lips and light brown eyes. He cupped his cheek with his palm, his lips parted as he leaned into the touch, inviting Draco to kiss him. And Draco leaned in pressing his lips lightly to his.

"You're beautiful!" the boy breathed as they parted. Draco startled, his hood hadn't fallen but it had drawn back enough to show his face in the dim lamplight. He curled up his lip in disgust and roughly ran his hand through the boy's hair. It was soft but not nearly as wild has Potter's.

"You're sweet" he spat to the boy and walked away ignoring the bare-chested girl trying to lure him back and adjusting his hood.

There she was. The woman rumoured to rule the night of Knockturn Alley. They called her Granny, as if that wasn't totally clichéd. She was a little woman well on her hundred and something with long, white and dried up hair and milky blue eyes. Her face was so wrinkled it had lost all resemblance to a human face. Draco leaned against the wall on the corner next to her spot. Every five minutes someone came and talked to her in shushed voiced. He waited there for half an hour. He couldn't do that anywhere else in the Alley after dark but there was no place safer than here next to Granny.

He had always followed his father's advice never to go to Knockturn Alley at night but he knew how things worked around here, how he could get what he wanted without risking his life or his money. Here he would get exactly what he came for, not some diluted shit. Not that he would really know the difference, but living with Death

Eaters did a lot for one's urban culture.

"What do you want?" Asked Granny out loud not looking up from her old little trolley.

"Ten of red." The Mauma potion was indeed fiery red. Not a very strong recreational potion, it was in fact one of the most popular because they said it wasn't addictive. Every respectable partying young wizard had taken it at least once. But the people that sold it around only sold it mixed with all sorts of disgusting things. Granny had the real source, brought all the way from Australia, the only place where its main ingredient, whatever it was, could be found.

"Ten? Are you selling?"

"No"

"180."

Draco pushed off the wall and walked up to her with a leather pouch full of galleons. She pulled out a wooden box of the trolley and gave him ten small vials of red potion that he quickly stored in his pockets. Without another word he turned around and began to walk away. He heard her chuckle.

"How dark is the blood on your veins." He walked faster knowing he didn't have the upper hand around here. Yes, his blood was dark, almost Black. And he didn't want to do anything to make her use that information against him.

* * *

It was bliss. Suddenly all his perceptions of the world around him changed. Draco started laughing. He was completely aware of everything around him. How the colour of the bed contrasted beautifully with the carpet. How the light entering by the window gave the objects a life of their own. When light enters an object it is white but the object keeps a part of it and we only see what it rejects. Every object around him was full of light, of energy.

The clothes he was wearing felt so uncomfortable, so useless. He was alone anyway. He took everything off. Music. He needed music. Some muggle stuff perhaps, something not too aggressive. Selecting music was quite an adventure, Draco discovered as he went through the muggle CD's but in the end it was worth it. That's when he discovered music was the most sexual thing in the world. The guitar notes slipped through his spine sending shivers all over his body.

It felt like he was in a little cocoon of pleasure. Oh! Now the guitar was like great bolts of light turning and turning. It was a woman flying through the air with her water-like dress floating around her. Ophelia covered with flowers (4). The water caressed his skin, soft hands, soft but definitely masculine. A man was singing, no words, just one note held while the guitar did its magic. It was so incredible sensual. Those lips barely moved but the sound was like a moan of perfect pleasure. The green eyes bore it to him, telling him he would always be away. Away from home. **Forever away, forever away from home (5)**. It was beautiful and so sad. He wanted those arms around him, those lips on him, caressing like the guitar, those eyes looking at him, that hair between his fingers. A flash of a vision, fire, fire… _don't think about it. _He fell deeper in the little cocoon, he wanted to fell safe, safe in his arms. It was warm. He closed his eyes and he could feel Harry's arms around him. The guitar was still sending shivers down his spine but he was very deep in the warmth, the infinite warmth. His last thought before losing all consciousness was _'Finally I can sleep'._

* * *

"Draco. Are you feeling ok? You seem distracted."

"I'm fine mother, just a bit tired." Draco said, avoiding his mother's eyes. She was no Legilimens but she knew him well enough to see the shadow in his soul. She was spending a lot of time out so that gave him time to take a bit of his red potion and sometimes he was well enough to have dinner with her. But he still had some remaining impressions and he couldn't always control his reactions.

_

* * *

John, John, John you did this just so I could come listening to your guitar didn't you? Oh, right, you're a muggle, you know nothing of this. _

The water was falling down his body. The smoke danced to the rhythm of John's guitar. Oh, yes, they were on first name basis now, how could they not be. Harry was everywhere. Sometimes John's voice was Harry's. His smell was on Draco's skin, almost as if it had been planted there a few minutes before. The remaining shivers after he whispered something on Draco's ear still rocked Draco slightly. The ghosts of his hands still haunted his chest, his back, his face… Just a bit more of Mauma and it would be like he was really there. As soon as he had enough strength to move he would take another little sip.

* * *

"Draco, Draco! Are you listening to me? What is the matter with you?"

"Nothing is the matter. I'm sorry I just got a bit lost in my thoughts. What were you saying?"

* * *

_**Reach into the darkness for what you can't find. Travel great distance in your mind. (6)**_

Harry. Harry. _Sometimes I think this is all just a dream. It feels like a dream. Everything is quite surreal. But then for a second I realise that it's not. That I am a fool for behaving like this. I am flying very high on John's guitar. It doesn't matter; there is no one here to see. You're not here to see. I am glad you're not here even if my body demands your presence. _

The fresh air was good. He hadn't noticed how much he missed it. The sun pierced though the leaves. Streaks of gold like fairy dust in the morning breeze.

He had to move on. He couldn't stay in this pathetic Harry mourning. He couldn't go back to him now, he was better off without him. No one had the right to see his soul. He was free to be who ever he wanted, it was all right, and there was no need for anyone judging him. If Harry got to see his soul he was sure to judge and he would find it ugly and broken beyond repair. It wasn't, but that's how Harry would see it. Why would he go through all that trouble? And Harry himself was better off without Draco.

He loved the light. He absolutely loved it. He wanted to capture it. To have it forever. It had been dark in the Manor while the Dark Lord was there. A sort of fashion statement really, he was the Dark Lord after all, it was to be expected he was always dressed in black and moved around dark and slimy corridors. And for Draco it had been awful because he really loved to see the Manor lit by the sun like some heavenly palace you see on close-death experiences.

It had been a bit stupid to go around fucking everybody. Fun, but stupid. He now realised that the time he was supposed to spend finding himself and deciding what to do with the rest of his life he had spend it fucking around and hurting people. He had no idea what to do, what to study. He had always thought Potions was a good choice. Working for the Ministry perhaps. He had thought that because in Hogwarts everyone loved him it was the same with the whole wizarding world. But talking with his mother had taught him otherwise. His father was still wanted for his crimes and even if they had decided that he and his mother were innocent, the name Malfoy was associated with Lucius' crimes.

He lay back, caressing the grass around him and enjoying the contrast of the green of the leaves with the blue sky. He was surprised to notice how much he enjoyed the image.

He had to claim some honour for his family. He had to do something that would be big enough to erase Lucius from everyone's memory and show them that he, Draco, was now the head of the family. But what could he do? He wasn't especially talented in anything. Perhaps potions. It had always been easy for him to do it and he liked it but to dedicate himself to it was perhaps too much. He wanted to do something different. Something that he would find completely fulfilling. But the only thing he could think of as fulfilling was the image of Harry lying in bed with the sunlight illuminating his face. That was certainly not a clue as to what to do with his life.

* * *

_**Speak my last words and then remember it might never end. (7)**_

_You're right as always John. Harry, if I die one of this days, don't think it was your fault. Don't feel guilty. You always feel guilty about everything. But this one is on me, completely on me._

_I know I'm lying to myself. I just don't want to think of the real reasons why I don't want to be with Harry. Pascal said humans are always contradictory and I know I am. I don't make sense at all. But if I try to say it clearly, if I even think of it clearly I wont be able to live with myself._

'The human body is quite amazing' thought Draco as he moved in front of the mirror. Humans never really know it completely. He mapped his entire body, comparing it in his mind with the only other body he knew perfectly: Harry's. He bent his back trying to reach his ankles with his hands from behind. He wanted to be able to reproduce it on paper. It was so complicated.

John's guitar was calming and not too crazy. This way he could concentrate in the way his muscles moved underneath his skin as he danced. Quite amazing.

* * *

"Have you considered what you would like to study now that you're out of Hogwarts? You had good results in you NEWTS, many would want to have you working with them." She was standing next to the fireplace and her whole face seemed alive with the flames. Her hair, falling in delicate curls down her back, shone like it was full of diamonds. Draco was lounging in an armchair with his legs falling out one side and his head resting on the other arm.

"I have given it a lot of thought, but I don't know yet what I would like to do." He took a sip of the red wine and smiled at the image he must have made there on the couch. Quite an image of decadence. His mother looked at him reproachfully once more, obviously not so amused with his lack of decorum but knowing that there was nobody in the Manor apart from them. Draco felt a bit guilty he had neglected his mother so much. He had reduced the times he took Mauma to once a day, on the mornings before going out to walk in the gardens or in his room. His mother was never in the Manor before four o'clock so he had time to enjoy a full gulp of it. He would spend the evenings with his mother, he decided, he was well enough not to show her he was dying inside from not seeing Harry. The potion helped a lot. He sighed and turned so he was in an appropriate position on the armchair. "I have a feeling but it's too early to tell."

She smiled softly and looked at him like a loving mother. His insides warmed at the sight and he breathed her perfume as she came closer to place a kiss on his cheek. The smell triggered all sort of memories in his brain, some as old as he was. A comforting smell, that was sure.

"Take your time, there is no hurry." She said and sat beside him on another armchair taking her own wineglass.

* * *

_Who would've thought drawing could feel this good?_ He practiced for hours, high on Mauma, trying to draw everything that surrounded him. Trying to draw his own body. Every time he picked up the pencil he felt he could capture what he wanted a little bit better. Perhaps someday he would be able to draw Harry.

He felt trapped now. He wanted to see the sunlight in other objects than those he saw everyday and knew perfectly. He went out of the Manor. It occurred to him it was perhaps a bit reckless to go out when he was high on Mauma but he discarded the thought deciding he would keep to muggle London.

"Hey, this is going to sound insane but could you please model for some pictures?" Draco turned towards the voice. Handsome muggle. He had long straight black hair shining in the light with blue sparkles, it was long enough to touch the hem of the low cut jeans. He looked indigenous, with high cheekbones, pointy chin, big, black eyes and olive skin but he was very tall, taller than Draco.

Later, Draco would blame his recklessness to the potion but the real reason why he went with the guy was because he looked like a nice person and Draco wanted to talk to someone. Plus, he was a muggle; he couldn't possibly be dangerous to a wizard.

"It does sounds crazy, what kind of pictures do you take?" He smiled and the guy grinned back.

"It depends on the moment. I can do portraits or nudes or whatever comes to me and depending on the model of course." Draco chuckled.

"Hello, pleased to meet you, will you undress for me?" The guy had the decency to look ashamed. His cheeks darkened a bit. Draco was only teasing him, he already knew he was going to follow him. To get some adventure.

"You don't have to if you don't want to… Look, I'm sorry, I didn't want to offend you. This is the first time I ask someone I don't know to do this but you have this look on your face…" he gestured with his hands nervously as if trying to convey the enormity of what he saw in Draco. "Please, I really want to take your picture."

Draco sighed.

"All right, what the hell, I've got nothing to loose." The guy smiled like a child given a very big candy. Draco couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him when he saw that smile. "What's your name?"

"Santiago and yours?"

"Draco. Where are we going?" He followed Santiago through the crowded street.

"To my study, it's not too far." _I'm insane_ but he followed anyway.

They arrived five minutes later to a small flat full of all kind of muggle equipments. Draco knew some of them were cameras, there was also a drawing table and a corner completely dedicated to painting, but most of it had him baffled. But what was wonderful about the flat was the amount of light that poured through the windows and a small terrace full of plants.

"Nice place you got here." He commented looking around.

"Yes, I love it. We bought it with some friends. I don't paint, that's all Brian's and we have another friend who is an acting teacher, she uses the bedroom. Do you want something to drink?" Draco snorted.

"I'm already thinking this is too reckless, accepting a drink or something to eat would be downright crazy." Santiago looked a bit hurt but didn't insist. "You want me to strip? Or where do you want me?"

"We'll see how it goes and what you are comfortable with. Just talk to me for a while, I'll take the photos." He said as he prepared the camera in front a red divan. "Just sit there and talk to me." _Muggles are insane_ Draco thought as he sat down on the divan.

"Where's your name from?"

"It was the name I had when my parent adopted me but they don't know where it came from. Probably Spain. A lot of people ran away from the dictatorship."

"I see." Draco sighed. Still no picture taken.

"If you want you can walk around, I'll follow you with the camera."

"All right." He took a turn around the room and spotted the CD collection. A lot of rock that Draco knew, even a bit of his beloved John Frusciante but also a lot of artists he didn't know.

"Can we listen to some music?" he turned and realised that Santiago was finally taking the photos. He smiled. He felt completely out of place but it was fun, the Mauma potion was sending shivers down his spine and he felt flattered by the camera's attention. With one hand Santiago selected a CD and with some difficulty he placed it in the CD player. Some kind of soft and sensual Latin music.

"That's nice." He swayed his hips following the slow bit of the song. A woman's voice singing in Spanish multiplied the pleasure he was feeling. His skin was incredibly sensitive and the music felt like a sensual caress all over his body.

"Where are you from?" asked Santiago, the camera clicking once more. Draco laughed, delighted at the renewed feeling of his potion.

"I guess I am from here, though I don't think it means the same to you as it does to me."

"Why?"

"Because I live in a very small bubble."

"Do you like it?"

"I used to love it. I felt superior and proud of it." Click. The camera followed his movements.

"What happened?"

"A madman came and ruined it all." Click. "My father thought he was doing the best for his family when he decided to follow him."

"What happened?" Draco laughed dryly.

"The only thing that could happen. It's impossible to live up to the expectations of a madman. My father fucked up. Then it was up to me and I couldn't do it. I thought I was going to die." Click, click.

"He turned everything I loved about my bubble insignificant and even ugly. Well, almost everything." Click.

"What remained?"

"My mother, the sun, _him._" Click. The music turned to a tango. Draco continued to walk around the room, dancing and opening his soul to a stranger. He didn't know why the words were flowing out of his mouth but something about this guy just lade him tell him everything.

"Who's him?"

"A hero." Click. He smiled remembering the old times. "He was always so infuriating. I thought I hated him more than anything." Click. "He was always better than me. I tried and tried to beat him and I never could. I still can't. And I was no more than a little stain on his life." He remembered Harry, all the petty fights they had. "He was beyond everything we did at school, we were all so small and yet he treated everyone like they were equals." Click. "I only wanted to be his equal for real. I wanted to be the person he most wanted to defeat. But it wasn't me; it was that megalomaniac, that murderer. He did, in the end."

"He did what?"

"Defeat him. He was the hero who saved us all. He saved me, he took me out of the flames when I was trying to bring him to my father's master. I would've left him there. That's the most horrible part. I would've left him there to save myself." _Don't think about it… _But it was too late. Click, click.

Draco felt suffocated as he remembered the Fiend Fire. He couldn't breath. He took off his shirt. "I'm so stupid!"

"Why?"

"Because I always refuse to see the truth."

"What's the truth?"

"That he is the best person I have ever met. The most beautiful, the bravest, the kindest. He has his flaws but he is certainly more perfect than anyone I know." Click.

"You love him."

"Yes, but that's not too strange, everyone loves him. The question is why does he love me?" Click, click.

"He loves you?"

"At least he thinks he does. I could see it in his eyes. But how can someone like him love someone like me? It doesn't make any sense." He tried to stop the confessions from flowing out him but it was impossible, he couldn't not think about it anymore.

"Then why do you think he loves you? What's your theory?"

"I think he's fooling himself. He is seeing someone who's not me, some ideal he has, I don't know. The moment he _sees_ the real me, he will hate me again." Click, click. It was going out, the wound was opened again. It was an infected wound and the putrid pus leaked out of it and Draco couldn't stop it. "It all comes down to that day. I would've left him in the flames! And it kills me. It kills me to know that. I know him now and I know what could have been lost! How selfish can I be? I didn't care for all the lives lost, for all the students who died that day except for the ones who were my friends. How many of them could have been great persons? How many of them could've brought more to the world or to him than me?" Click, click. "I didn't deserve to live that day. I didn't. Damn it. I just don't deserve to have him. Of all the people who want him I am the one who would've left him in the flames." Click. He could almost smell the rotting flesh of the wound, so long covered by perfume. Tears escaped him as the words had and there was no stopping it.

Santiago sighed dramatically and lowered his camera.

"That was beautiful." He was breathing heavily like he had been running for miles. Draco was crying, crying for all the time he hadn't cried since he forced Harry to leave his room. Santiago went to the kitchen and returned with two glasses of water. He gave one to Draco and he took it, he had already shown everything to this man, why not accept a glass of water? Besides, it calmed him. He fell down on the divan. He hadn't wanted to say it, to think it. But that was it. That was his horrible secret and he felt awful to have acknowledged it.

Santiago held him for a long time but there was no comfort. Not for him.

* * *

It was probably a bad idea to take Mauma before going out, Draco concluded as he fell face down on his bed. He was completely exhausted. He wanted to see Harry. He wanted to hold him so bad. He started crying again and felt stupid for doing so. What was he? Some four year old crying because he doesn't get a hug? Why had he talked that much to a man he didn't know? Was he so desperate? What would Santiago think about all he had said? Probably that he was insane but Draco had said more things to a muggle than wizards were normally allowed. How stupid of him.

He saw the flames. The Room of Lost Things on fire. He had trained himself not to think about it, not to think about its implications. Now it was like someone had lifted a lid so Draco could peer inside his soul. He cringed. He really didn't like to see his soul at all. The guilt. He had never known the meaning of the word until that terrible day. He had trained and trained his mind not to think about it, he had forced Harry to stay away because he didn't want to acknowledge its existence. But now he couldn't deny it anymore. It had been a three layered protection, the outer layer was selfishness and pretending not to care about the world, forcing himself not to care about it, Harry had ripped it away from him violently that afternoon. The second layer was pretending he was doing the right thing, forcing himself to believe it but even if he knew there was a little truth in that idea he couldn't deny it had all been driven by the fear of seeing what he was seeing now.

Loving Harry meant opening his soul to Harry and in the process opening his soul to himself and it scarred the hell out of him. First because he didn't know how to handle the Guilt and second because Harry would never be able to love something like that. How could he? Draco couldn't stand it and he was good at self-indulgence, Harry, with all his high morals would hate it, he would hate _him_. And that would destroy Draco completely. He couldn't live with the Guilt and Harry's rejection, he wouldn't.

The next day he woke up and he was trembling all over. His eyelids were glued together with dried up tears and he grimaced at the awful taste in his mouth. He took the Mauma before taking a shower and the trembling stopped after a while. He turned to John, there was still no comfort, there would never be comfort for him but John made the pain a little less unbearable.

He visited every corner of the Manor with the music amplified with a _Sonorus_. He didn't know what he was searching or even if he was searching anything in particular. He even went to his father study, to the cellar where Harry had once been imprisoned, to the rooms the Dark Lord used during his stay, to the pool he hadn't used since someone dropped the body of a junior Death Eater Draco had never talked to, he wasn't seventeen when they killed him. He touched all the robes his father had left behind, the books, the quills. He lay on his father's bed. It wasn't dusty but it did have a certain smell that things get after a long time of not being used.

So many memories he had ignored. He had blocked his father's voice in his head. He had blocked out the tortures, the fear, his mother's face when she was tortured. He lay there and let all the memories, all the pain, all the guilt, all the fear, all the hopelessness, all the anxiety wash over him. He missed his father, after all that had happened he still missed him. He was good at Occlumency, so good he had blocked it all out, but that had to stop.

**One, two, three… And then the past recedes. (8)**

He cried again and wanted nothing more than Harry's arms around him. But he was alone in this. He had to get through this alone. The sun was already setting down and he was sure his mother would be unnerved to hear the loud music reverberating in the Manor when she arrived. But he couldn't get up just yet, he had to see this to the end.

Several hours passed and he still couldn't get up. He felt a soft hand petting his hair and he sighed.

"I didn't know you were so fond of muggle music." His mother's voice came from behind and he felt the bed sink a little as she sat next to him.

"He's exceptionally good. Better than any wizards musicians I know." He winced a little at the roughness of his voice.

"Yes, he is quite good, isn't he?" the bed shifted again and he saw a curtain of curly, silky golden hair block his vision a second before he felt her lips on his temple. He inhaled her scent and found a bit of comfort in it. It reminded him of all the good things in his life, before everything happened. He sobbed again and she held him. He felt childish but he needed her so much. He turned around buried his face in the crook of her neck, just relishing the simple familiarity of her.

* * *

_This is stupid_ Draco thought as he waited outside the door. The stairs were just as he remembered them, dirty and dark but he knew the darkness would disappear the moment he stepped into the little flat. That was, obviously, if someone opened the door. He pressed the doorbell once more and waited. After a few minutes he decided that obviously no one was there and he turned to leave feeling a bit relieved he didn't had to go in. But then he heard the door open and the corridor filled with light.

He turned to see a young man with a nose that could compete with Severus Snape's, looking at him curiously. He wasn't _horrible_, it just took a moment to look at his face and not only his nose.

"Er… Hi." Draco kicked himself for sounding so nervous and like he had no idea what he was doing there. But the fact was, he really had no idea what he was doing there. The man smiled at him indulgently and Draco felt a bit insulted.

"You're here to see Santiago right?" he had a deep, sensual voice that startled him because he didn't look like someone who could own a voice like that.

"Yes…" he bit his lip and wondered once more what the hell he was doing there.

"Come on in." The man said with his deep voice as he stepped aside to allow Draco to enter. "He's in his dark room right now but I don't think he'll take too long. Do you want something to drink?" Draco looked around as he entered the flat and noticed that several things had changed. First there was a big canvas obviously left only a few seconds before showing the outlines of a forest scene. And there were pictures of him covering a whole wall. He stared at them in disbelief and took a few steps closer. _Merlin_. One thing was for certain: Santiago was one hell of a photographer. Each photo seemed to have a life of its own and they were even more beautiful because of their stillness. He saw in the photos more of himself he had ever known in his life.

There was the arrogance, the high breeding and so much sensuality he was a bit embarrassed. Now he understood why Pansy thought it would be indecent to marry him. There was also something dark and dangerous with a 'don't get too close' aura around him. But there was also pain and the impression he carried a great weight on his soul. The Guilt. It was so plain there on the black and white picture.

And then there was the biggest and central image. He knew the exact moment it had been taken, when he had talked about the fire and it was like everything in the other pictures was compressed in that single one. A tear halfway down his cheek, his bare chest with the slight scar down the middle, his hair sparkling in the sunlight. It was probably the best picture he had ever seen.

"They're good, aren't they?" Santiago's voice brought him out of the trance he had entered. He had his hair in a long braid down the centre of his back.

"They are amazing." He whispered and ghosted his fingertip along the tear in the photo.

"I didn't think I'd see you again" Draco turned to look at him and noticed the crook-nosed man was painting, completely ignoring the two of them.

"I didn't think I would come back." He said shrugging. Santiago gestured to the painter.

"That's Brian." Brian lifted his head and gave Draco a polite smile. "And this," continued Santiago gesturing at Draco now a bit dramatically "is Draco." He said the name with badly contained excitement. Brian snorted and rolled his eyes.

"I can see that." He said in his deep voice. "Nice to finally meet you."

"Er… Nice to meet you too." Draco answered a bit confused.

"I didn't told him anything about what you told me." Santiago stated conversationally.

"But he's been bragging about the pictures constantly." Draco studied Brian. He was tall but not as much as Santiago or even himself. His skin was too white, his light-brown hair was very thin and seemed delicate but it was a bit greasy and his small dark eyes were piercing and just the tiniest bit scary. He was very, very thin and his clothes were ragged and stained with paint. But there was something about him, a sort of grace and intelligence seemed to come out of every pore. Overall he was… interesting. "Will you model for me too?"

Draco snorted.

"Rabid group of artists, aren't you?" Brian shrugged and went back to his painting.

"OH!" Came a cry from the far side of the room. It was a little red-haired woman with a big grin on her face that looked a bit maniac as she ran towards Draco. "Oh! You're even more delightful in person!" She said cheerfully as she turned around him and inspected every inch.

"Thank you, I'm Draco, nice to meet you." He wanted to laugh but the urge soon went away.

"Sophie." She offered a hand that he accepted. "You wouldn't be by any chance interested in acting, would you?" This time he did laugh and noticed Santiago laughing too. He felt a sort of connection with the man now that he had opened his soul to him.

"No. I'm sorry." Behind Sophie he could see the door of a room where several shy faces peered at him. He was beginning to feel like a zoo animal. He looked imploringly at Santiago. He laughed again making his dark eyes twinkle.

"Want to go for a walk?" Draco nodded gratefully. Santiago took some keys from the windowsill and started walking to the door but as an afterthought he went back and peered into Brian's painting. "You're ruining it. Come with us." Brian sighed but followed them.

They walked silently for a long time in the fresh October wind talking about everything and nothing. Draco felt relaxed. This was his. As awful at it sounded this were_ his_ muggles, no one he knew knew them, they didn't saw him during the war. It was refreshing. Brian suddenly stopped and looked at Draco curiously as if it was the first time he saw him. The resemblance with Severus made Draco's heart ache a little.

"Do you draw or paint or something like that?"

"No, not really. I do draw a little but I don't think I am very good at it."

"Would you like to learn?" Draco stared at him. He didn't know what had triggered the question but now that he thought about it, he would very much like to learn to paint.

"Y-Yes" Santiago chuckled.

"I told you he would be perfect." Draco looked at him in confusion. "You said that you loved the sun. I interpreted that you have at least a bit of artistic sensibility."

"Okay…"

"And I just saw you looking everything with such interest. I think we can do something with you. Can you come to the study two or three times a week?" Brian smiled and it changed his whole face turning it quite handsome for a minute,

"Yeah, of course. Thank you…"

"Don't mention it. I need someone to change my perspective of things." He smiled again and them turned to Santiago, placing a hand in his shoulder. "I'm going back, I think I know what was missing."

"Alright, see you latter." And with one last look at Draco, Brian took off in the direction of the study. Draco looked at Santiago again, feeling a bit self-conscious now that they were alone.

"Thank you" the brunette whispered and then looked at Draco with such intensity he had to advert his eyes.

"For what?"

"Those were the best photos I have ever taken." He tenderly brushed Draco's hair out of his eyes with his fingertips. It was nice but he really hoped Santiago didn't try to kiss him; he wasn't ready to kiss anyone who wasn't Harry yet. "A very important art gallery agreed to show them, with other of my pictures. It's a great opportunity, every respectable critic goes there and all the great English photographers are invited to the opening."

"That's great!" What was really amazing was the look on his dark eyes, full of gratitude, excitement and… fondness. Suddenly Draco was enveloped in a tight embrace. Santiago laughed and lifted Draco from the ground, turning quickly to make him fly like a small child.

"I know!!" he shouted, ignoring Draco's attempts to free himself. He finally put him down. Draco saw in his face true happiness and he felt pride in having caused it. He rearranged his clothes and hair, more than a little embarrassed at being lifted off the floor that easily.

"You have to come to the opening, it's in a week." Draco felt again as he had the day he had met this man, he was so full of energy and a child-like excitement for life itself that he felt it was impossible to deny him anything.

"Alright, I'll be there"

* * *

Draco didn't go to take his drawing classes two times a week, he went every day for two weeks. His mother was planning this big party and he tried to stay out of the house as much as possible. Brian taught him things he would've never learned on his own. He felt he was growing, expanding. Brian said he was more talented than anyone he knew and only after three days of class Draco stopped taking the Mauma potion. At first the world seemed a bit boring but then he realised he could still feel what he felt under it if he listened to the right music or as he tried to draw something particularly difficult. After class he always went for a walk with Santiago and they talked about everything, he told him everything he could without revealing the existence of magic, he told him about Harry, about how much he missed him, about how much he would like to show him all the things he was doing thanks to Brian. As Santiago's opening came nearer he started helping at the gallery, giving his opinion on how to distribute the photos. They decided to hang the best ones on the smaller room because it made them look special, or more than they already were. He felt a bit self-conscious to have his soul revealed to so many strangers but seeing Santiago so happy about his success made it impossible for him to complain.

The day itself was quite strange, Santiago couldn't glow more or he would resemble a light bulb so great was his happiness. Almost everyone who was invited came and almost everyone who came liked the photos. They were calling it "the greatest exposition in the last five years". The gallery managers at some point announced they were leaving it for three weeks instead of one. A lot of people were very curious about Draco. "What were you crying for?" and "Are you single?" seemed to be the first questions to leave everyone's mouths. Fortunately Brian protected him with his scary eyes, which, he had discovered had nothing to do with his real personality. For some reason, even if it was impossible, he seemed to be seeing Harry everywhere, only to see a second afterwards that it was just a man with curly black hair or someone with ugly round glasses. All in all it was a great success but Draco decided he wasn't going back to the gallery after that.

* * *

One morning he was finally getting to paint something of his own choosing when for the first time Brian criticised his work.

"Why did you choose that scene?" he asked frowning at Draco's descent from the cross.

"I liked a lot what Botticelli did with it."

"But you're not Boticelli are you?"

"No, of course I'm not, but I wish I could paint like him."

"Don't."

"Why? He's one of…"

"Yeah, yeah, I love his paintings too, but you have to find what you want to paint for yourself. If everyone imitates people who died centuries ago art wouldn't change at all. And if you're just imitating someone else than why bother painting at all?" Brian got up and took Draco's brush out of his hand. "You have to find something that you really want to paint, something that means everything to you, even if it's only for the time you're holding the brush."

Draco stared at his painting, a very crass imitation of Botticelli and tried to think of something that could mean everything to him.

"Hey! How are you doing?" Came Santiago's voice from the door and Brian huffed in exasperation as he always did when Santiago interrupted them with his loud entrance. The longhaired man dropped to the divan sexily, his silky, shiny hair falling and almost touching the floor. He had a little enigmatic smile on his face. Draco stared, he wasn't very attracted to him, but he could see how beautiful he was.

"I could paint him." He told Brian, ignoring Santiago's greeting, nonetheless Santiago's head shot up in interest.

"No, you would still be imitating someone."

"Who?!" Draco demanded crossly.

"Me." Brian gestured to one of his painting on the wall that showed Santiago in that exact position. Draco huffed but he knew it was probably right.

"Something interesting happened yesterday." Santiago said in a singsong voice, his smile broadening a little.

"What happened?" Brian asked dryly not even looking at him.

"I'm not telling if you don't show some interest." Santiago pouted. Draco laughed and knelt in front of him running his fingers through the soft hair. He always felt sad when he did that because, as beautiful as Santiago's hair was, it felt boring and he longed to have Harry's to do that. But he knew Santiago loved the attention.

"Tell me." He coaxed, trying to keep the laughter out of his voice. Brian had lived with Santiago too long to play his games but Draco still found them funny.

"I met someone." He said, almost purring.

"Was she cute?" Draco knew Santiago could be drawn to men too, but he loved women a lot more, he just liked to pretend he was completely bisexual because he thought it made him different from "the heterosexual idiots".

"Who said it was a she?!" he huffed in mock indignation.

"Well then, was he cute?"

"Oh yes, he was very, very cute. Even beautiful."

"Really?" Draco raised an eyebrow.

"Really. Great body, good style. Curly and messy black hair and these amazing, intense green eyes…"

"What?!" Draco stilled his hand and took a good look at Santiago. He had lost his smile completely and was looking directly at him. Draco heard the door behind him and knew Brian had left, probably obeying one of Santiago's looks.

"The woman he was with told me they knew you from school but weren't very close to you. He didn't say anything but the way he was looking at your photos was screaming 'I love him'." Draco has breathing harshly. Harry. He knew it. Harry had seen his photos. Harry had been in the gallery. Harry had known Santiago. The probabilities were so slim… but he had been there. What had he thought? What had he seen in those pictures? Suddenly Draco needed to know, he needed to know so badly. He closed his eyes and fought the urge to run to Harry's house immediately. He missed him so much, he didn't miss him a tiny little bit less than when he had forced him to Apparate out of the Manor, in fact he missed him a lot more than that day.

"Why don't you want to see him?" whispered Santiago cupping Draco's cheek in his palm.

"You know why."

"But why don't you tell him everything you told me? What if he accepts that and still loves you? Don't you see how great that love could be?"

"I wouldn't be able to handle his rejection."

"But isn't the possibility of his love worth the risk?" Draco shook his head. He was too afraid. He couldn't face Harry, he couldn't ask that of him. He couldn't show everything to him and expect him to love him still.

"You're just afraid." Draco turned his face, trying not to show how terrified he was, how weak but he knew it was useless.

* * *

(1)Freud

(2)The Vicomte de Valmont in Dangerous Liaisons (Chordelos de Laclos) was a libertine known for all the women he had ruined until he knew Madame de Tourvel. He tries to seduce her but falls in love in the process because she actually believes that the religion she practices and the morals she follows are right and she does follow them, unlike the rest of the women of her time.

(3)The movie is Fight Club (1999) with Edward Norton and Brad Pitt.

(4)Hamlet.

(5)Forever away by John Frusciante CD: Brown Bunny

(6)Unreachable by John Frusciante CD: The Empyrean (I know this CD was released like ten years later than the moment of this story but well, let's call it artistic license)

(7)Enough of Me by John Frusciante CD: The Empyrean.

(8)The Past Recedes by John Frusciante CD: Curtains


	3. Chapter 3

**WARNING**: Explicit language, a bit of gore, bi-sexuality, OC, angst, suicide mentions.

A/N: So... this chapter is a bit shorter and a lot of things happen. I think there will be only 2 more chapters before the end on the story. I hope you'll like it and... please don't kill me. I'm still looking for a beta.

**Chapter 3: Eclipse**

Harry couldn't keep still. His lower lip was hurting from all the times he had bitten it trying to calm himself but it didn't work. Nothing was working. He rearranged his books, he made his bed several times, he took three showers, he changed his clothes seven times. He even tried to play in the computer but time was clearly against him today. Einstein was right, time was relative. It wasn't possible that the minutes were at their normal speed. Hermione was off seeing Ron. They were having problems and most of them were because of him but Hermione didn't say anything about it. She just informed him that today she couldn't come or Ron would be very mad. Mrs. Malfoy hadn't been in Grimmauld Place for three days now. Apparently she was planning a big party in honour of Regulus' death. Harry had tried to ask her about him but she had refused to say anything else than he was a very close cousin, almost a brother and that his death had been very hard for the whole family. He had died the 24th of October 1979, which meant that this was the twentieth anniversary of his death.

But now it all meant that he was alone as he waited for eight o'clock to come.

Finally, when he had thought he would die from impatience, it was time to leave. He Apparated in the same alley Hermione and him had the night before and walked to the gallery. It took him half an hour to get through the crowd to see Draco's photos. They were even more astonishing than last night. He stood in front of the bigger one for a long time, unable to remember the reason for his being there.

"You're here again." Someone whispered very softly beside him. Harry turned sharply to the voice to see the handsome longhaired man from last night. Supposedly the one who had taken these pictures and Harry's only hope to see Draco. He wanted to demand the man to take him to Draco, to tell him everything, to explain why he had ended up with those photos, to explain exactly what his relationship with Draco was, but the words that came out where:

"Is he alright?" The man turned his dark gaze to the picture and sighed. Harry saw fondness in the look and his heart constricted. Was this man Draco's lover?

"I don't know." The man whispered and suddenly a curtain of black hair covered his face. Harry opened his mouth to ask something, anything, but the man continued is his soft voice. "Do you love him?"

Harry wondered for a moment why this man would ask such a question and didn't know what to answer. He hadn't even told Draco that. If this man was Draco's lover who knew what could happen afterwards? But in the end he decided to tell the truth, perhaps it would get him to know what he had done wrong.

"I do." The man sighed and tossed his hair out of his face. The pure beauty of it struck Harry. His heart sank even lower; he had no way of winning if this was his rival. Maybe he should just leave it be, leave Draco to be happy with this man. But no, if he did leave Draco alone he had to be sure he would be happy. He bit his lip. "Do you?" he whispered and knew he sounded a bit pathetic. The man smiled warmly.

"I do but not that way." Harry sighed in obvious relief. The man chuckled. "I'm Santiago." He offered his hand and Harry shook it.

"I'm Harry." Santiago nodded.

"What would you say if I asked you out for dinner now?" Harry frowned. "Not like a date. There are things I need to talk to you about."

"Then I would say OK."

* * *

It was a nice little muggle restaurant with a delicate French décor, but it wasn't expensive looking or pretentious, just cosy. A little old lady with a kind smile came to take their order and Harry had time to look at the man in front of him. He wasn't sure what to say or how to explain he wanted to see Draco even if Draco didn't want to see him. Fortunately Santiago saved him the trouble by talking first.

"What's your relationship with Draco?" Harry smiled, it wasn't an easy question, especially to answer to a muggle but he had already decided to tell the truth.

"I'm not sure really. We were sort of rivals at school, always fighting in the hallways. Then a lot of things happened, a war of sorts and we were on opposing sides." Harry sighed wondering how to continue.

"So, it's Romeo and Juliet then." Santiago said smiling, Harry laughed.

"Not really, Romeo and Juliet never hated each other. We did. Quite passionately I dare say. And I guess after the war all that passion had to go somewhere. We didn't become friends or anything like that. After ignoring each other for months I pinned him to a wall and snogged the life out of him." Harry's cock twitched when he remembered that first kiss. Santiago cocked his head to the side.

"And when did you fell in love with him?"

"I'm not sure. We were fucking regularly for months. I guess somewhere along the way I managed to see past his bad, insensitive boy image." Santiago raised an eyebrow at that but didn't interrupt. "I can't say I know him completely. There are a lot of things I will never understand about Draco but I more than willing to spend my life figuring him out." He sighed. "If he lets me."

The food arrived and slowly and silently they ate. They were both obviously immersed in their thoughts. Harry was caught in remembering all the times he had spend with Draco and the emptiness it left behind, the loneliness. He didn't know what Santiago's intentions were. Perhaps he was only talking to Harry in hope of learning more about Draco, perhaps he was a concerned friend, Harry had no idea. But there was something about that man, the way he smiled possibly, that made Harry want to trust him.

"Why did you come back?" He asked and looked at Harry like he was trying to figure him out.

"I hoped… I would like to him again. At least once." Santiago closed his eyes in a pained expression but then he sighed and said:

"Why only once?"

"Because he doesn't love me, he doesn't even like me. I know I have to get away from him because I will only get hurt but I need to know…"

"What?"

"Why doesn't he want to see me again. I mean, I know he has dumped a lot of people before but most of them were one night stands. He obviously enjoyed being with me, even if it was only physical. I want… I need to know what changed, why don't I qualify to even be his fuck toy." Harry averted his eyes to hide the pain lurking in them. Santiago sighed again.

"I was in love once." Harry didn't say anything. He wasn't sure what he could say anyway. He hadn't expected any sort of confession. "She was the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. You know, the sort of person that walks in a room and it feels like the room shouldn't have existed without them. Draco has that sort of aura. I don't know where it comes from… But anyway I was very young, not only in age, and I was completely taken with her." He chuckled a little. "I mean _completely_, I turned into an idiot when I saw her, I couldn't think, I could barely speak. She was overwhelming. But by some god's doing it turned out that she loved me too. She told me to live with her and I ran away from home without a thought. We lived together for two years and those were the best two years in my life.

" She was the most unpredictable person you can imagine. Several times she woke me in the middle of the night and dragged me out of bed so we could go to the sea or to a wood. Sometimes she disappeared for days but she always came back. She liked to go to the roof at night, like a cat, and gaze at the stars like they were telling her all sorts of amazing stories. After several months together I asked about her family and after a while she reluctantly told me that her mother was dead and she had a very difficult relationship with her dad. She told me that she loved him a lot and she knew he only wanted what was best for her, but that she didn't think they could have a normal relationship.

"A few months later a found her crying in the bathroom calling for her father but the next day she told me she didn't want to see him. I decided not to intervene in all that. That was until I met her father. I was looking for a job, I wanted to be a publicist in those days and I had an interview with this big agency that I admired a lot. When I arrived the man who was making the interview introduced himself and his last name was the same as hers. It wasn't a common last name. I asked him if he knew her. He was very shocked that I knew her, he told me he was his father and that she had been missing for two years. He had searched desperately for her and he missed her. Basically he convinced me to let him meet her, I took him to our place a few days later, a bit reluctantly but I really thought I was doing the best for her.

"It was a disaster. As soon as she saw him she looked at me with such betrayal in her eyes… I can still remember her just like that: so hurt. She took him to our room and there was a shouting match but I couldn't make out the exact words. After a while they came out. She was crying and he was about to cry too, she packed her things and without a word left me. It was the last time I saw her."

Harry stared in disbelief. He had been listening to the story with rapt attention watching the emotions that crossed Santiago's handsome face and now he could almost feel the hurt still haunting him.

"Do you know what happened to her?" Santiago nodded and looked away.

"I got an e-mail from her three months later… a _fucking_ e-mail! She wrote that she was sorry for leaving like that, that she loved me and that I shouldn't blame myself for anything. She wrote that she needed to tell someone her side of the story and that I was the only person she truly cared about so I had the right to know. She wrote that ever since she was a child she could see things that other couldn't. All sorts of things. She could see people in layers and she could always tell when someone was lying to her. She could see and feel the life within people and animals and plants. She could communicate with animals in very deep way, not like people communicate with symbols but with emotions. She told me at night the world was filled with life, with magic, and that's why she loved to gaze at night skies.

When she was fifteen her mother died, she killed herself without leaving any kind of explanation; she had always seemed a happy woman. Her father was shocked more than words can say. He didn't understand at all what had happened. After a while he began suspecting that she was hiding something, that she too was going to commit suicide. One day he searched her room when she was out and read her diary. She had it all written there, all the things she felt and saw. He completely freaked out. He took her to all sorts of doctors and they diagnosed her with schizophrenia and locked her up in a mental institute. She was there for months and it was horrible, they drugged her and told her that everything she was, was wrong. In the end she managed to fool them into thinking she was "cured" and let her out. She never forgave her father for it. She ran away from home and started a life on her own.

She told me she wasn't sure if the things she saw were real or if her mind was healthy but that her visions had never hurt anyone and when she was with me her life was full. Her father had taken her to the mental institute the minute she left our place. She told me she had been given permission to use the computer for the first time because they thought she was better. She told me she couldn't stand it anymore, that it hurt too much. And again she said I shouldn't blame myself for what happened." He covered his face with his hands and Harry was at a loss of what to do. But Santiago continued.

"I could already tell what she was about to do. I tried to contact her father by all means possible to know where he had locked her. I was too late. When I finally got hold of him he told me she had committed suicide and even invited me to the funeral. I didn't go, I think I would've killed him if I saw him again.

All this to say that after that I promised myself never to intervene in someone's life against their will again. People tend to think they know what's best for others, I thought that way before. But now I know that most people know what's best for them or have very good reasons not to do certain things." He looked significantly at Harry and Harry knew what he meant: he didn't want to intervene in Draco's life. He lowered his gaze, such a tragic story. He could understand Santiago's position

"I understand." He whispered, trying not to feel too disappointed.

"Draco has specifically told me that he doesn't want to see you. I understand his reasons. But..." Harry looked up in hope. "Even if I shouldn't, I can't help thinking that he could be so much happier in many ways." He sighed and Harry could see how troubled he was. "Do you really love him? It's not just an infatuation?"

Harry took a moment to think his answer because he knew how important it was that it was sincere.

"I love him. I love him more than anything and anyone. I love to wake up next to him and right now I want to wake up every morning of my life next to him. But I can't promise that it will be like that forever, my life has always been a mess. What I can promise is that I will do whatever I can to make him happy." Santiago nodded and looked thoughtful.

"You know he has done some pretty bad things in the past, don't you?" He asked biting his lip. Harry was surprised that this man knew so much about Draco, but he guessed Draco had told him things without disclosing the existence of magic.

"Yeah, of course. I was the one who put his father in jail. I was the one who noticed he was doing something wrong the following year. My best friend nearly died because of him, his brother is permanently disfigured. But I know that he did all that because he wanted to protect his family. He didn't have much of a choice. And in the end, when he really had to do something awful, he couldn't. I was there that time though I don't think he saw me. He was so scared, that's what I remember the most. He's not a murderer. I know that he isn't the kindest or the most generous person in the world but he isn't a cold-blooded murderer." Harry snorted a little. "At least he has that. I, on the other hand… I have killed."

Santiago looked at him for a long time with his brow furrowed.

"Where on earth did all this happen?" He finally asked. "Draco also tells all this strange stories where he omits names and places…" He sighed. "Forget it. It's not my place to ask that. You must have your reasons to hide it." Harry smiled. He really liked this man. He was very understanding, kind and sort of wise. He was glad that Draco had such a good friend, he really needed one. Santiago returned the smile but his was troubled and did not reach his eyes. He bit his lip again and looked extremely uncomfortable as he said.

"I guess I could… take you to see him…" Harry's heart gave a leap. He was going to see Draco. Excitement and fear and hope filled him and it was a miracle he heard Santiago's next words. "But you have to promise me not to push him too far. Don't hurt him."

"I promise." Harry said his breathing fast with nervousness but his voice sincere like his heart. He wasn't going to hurt Draco ever again. "When?"

"Tomorrow. He'll be at the flat I work in in the morning." Harry nodded and was about to ask why Draco would be there and where was the flat when Santiago pulled out a piece of paper and wrote the address. "Be there at eleven o'clock."

* * *

Harry didn't sleep much that night. He kept turning in bed, imagining what he was going to say, how Draco would react, thinking that maybe, just maybe, he would be able to taste those intoxicating lips again. Finally he fell asleep at five in the morning only to be awoken at eight by an angry Hermione. He grumbled and turned his back on her but she, cruel as she was, opened the curtains and took his sheets away. He whimpered as the light hit his eyes painfully.

"Where were you last night?" Hermione asked and Harry could hear the telltale shake in her voice. He forced the sleepiness out of his mind and sat on the edge on the bed, facing her. Her eyes were puffy and red as if she had been crying all night.

"What happened?"

"What didn't happen…" She said as she sat next to him. She looked at him with pity and his heart sank, something really bad had happened and it was going to affect him more than it did Hermione. "Last night…" She started and seemed to select her words carefully "Last night Ginny tried to kill herself."

"WHAT?!" Harry was out of bed in a second and already putting on some trousers but Hermione got up and put a hand on his arm to stop him.

"She's stable now. Arthur found her in her room with a rope around her neck, she had charmed it so it would squeeze enough to cut her air supply and her blood circulation." Harry closed his eyes trying to stop the horrible images filling it. The guilt hit him again, harder than ever and all he could do was listen to Hermione's words. "It was a very close cut. She was already unconscious. But we managed to take her to St. Mungo's on time."

"I have to go…" Harry whispered weakly and a tear fell down his cheek. He hated crying in front of others and yet, again, he couldn't help it.

"No."

"Why?"

"First, because I don't think seeing you will help her in any way. Maybe it would make things worse because she could think that you're there to restart your relationship again…"

"Maybe…"

"No, Harry. I know that right now you feel like the right thing to do would be to come back to her and do anything she wants to make her better. But it isn't. That's the worst thing you could do. You would be forever trapped in a relationship without love and she would know it but her obsession with you would make her use the threat of suicide to keep you from leaving. You would both be miserable."

Harry nodded and swallowed painfully. He could understand how awful that possibility was. It would mean he couldn't see Draco again and that, he knew, was out of the question.

"All right." He sat heavily on the bed once more and Hermione sat beside him, putting her head on his shoulder. Harry could feel her shaking with silent sobs. He put his arm around her shoulder and held her as she had done for him so many times. He felt horrible about Ginny but Hermione was right, he couldn't do anything to help her.

"I was horrible" Hermione sobbed and with her arms around his naked waist she hugged him so tightly it almost hurt. "Her face…" She sobbed harder. "Her eyes!"

Harry tried not to imagine how someone who had been deprived of air and of blood circulation by a rope around the neck for more than a few minutes would look but he knew… he _knew_ how the face would start by going red then purple. How it would grow a bit rounder, filled with blood. How the eyes would go completely red when the delicate veins in them exploded from the pressure. He had seen many horrible things during the war but that kind of death was one of the ugliest to look at.

He held Hermione tighter wanting to erase the image from her mind forever so she wouldn't have to live with it.

"How is Ron?" he asked, knowing it was a stupid question but unable to stay quiet any longer.

"He is very scared." Hermione answered wiping the tears from her face. "And angry."

Harry nodded. Of course Ron would be mad at him for this. Hell, he was mad at himself for it.

"Where were you last night?" Hermione asked for the second time but this time it wasn't angry but curious. She was obviously trying to talk about something that didn't remind her of Ginny. Harry sighed.

"I went to the gallery again." He didn't want to lie to Hermione, even if he wasn't ready to tell her about Draco.

"Really? Did you see that guy again?"

"I did. He invited me to dinner." Hermione raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"Why?"

"Just to talk for a bit. He is rather nice."

"It wasn't… Like a date… was it?" She looked at him inquisitively and he smiled. Now she was on the good track to know his sexuality. It was a way to break it to her progressively.

"No, I don't think it was a date."

"Oh… Ok…" she looked thoughtful and Harry knew the doubt was on her mind.

* * *

At ten to eleven Harry was standing facing an old door in a dark corridor. The flat was on a dangerous looking street and the building itself was covered by graffiti. He shifted uncomfortably. Nervousness was tying knots in his stomach. Finally the urge to see Draco won over the nerves and he knocked softly. He heard laughter inside and he knew Draco was in there. The laughter stopped and after a few second the door opened.

He was even more magnificent than before. His hair was a bit longer and his skin a bit less pale. He had a smile frozen in his face and it faded away as he took in Harry's looks. His beautiful grey eyes were so full with different emotions, so intense, Harry couldn't breath. Oh! He had forgotten how powerful his eyes were. He had forgotten how perfect his lips were. He had forgotten the aura that surrounded him, it made Harry feel like he was in another world completely, like nothing else existed except for Draco and him. He had thought he remembered Draco. He had been wrong. But now his very soul seemed to awake at the familiar and until then forgotten sensations.

They stood there looking at each other and nothing else existed.

"Draco?" a deep, rich voice called from inside and they both snapped out of their trance. Draco looked inside with his eyes narrowed. After a minute his eyes came back to Harry.

"What the hell are you doing here, Potter?" Draco hissed harshly and at the same time two set of angry whispers started on the inside. Harry recognised Santiago's voice but he couldn't make out the words. He bit his lip. He had hoped that Santiago had warned Draco of his coming. He didn't really know what to answer to he let his mouth work without his brain.

"I wanted to see you." His voice was a bit weak but perhaps Draco didn't notice. Draco cursed and the whispers got louder. He looked over his shoulder and muttered something under his breath.

"Well, there." He said extending his arms at his sides. "You saw me." He looked as if he was going to close the door and Harry moved quickly to block its path. He looked pleadingly at Draco.

"Please, can we just… talk for bit?"

He looked as if he was going to say no but then he looked inside again and huffed.

"I'll be back." He spat and Harry supposed it was directed at Santiago. He stepped outside and closed the door behind him. Carefully avoiding to touch Harry he pressed a button on the wall and a white and cold light lit the corridor, not making it look any less gloomier but at least allowing them to see each other. Draco stood in front of Harry but as far away as the corridor allowed, which was about two steps. "Talk."

"How… How are you?" Harry asked, beating himself for his stupid question. He wasn't able to think now that he had Draco so close, he just wanted to kiss those lips again and hold this man until the end of times and every second he wasn't doing that seemed wasted.

"Fine." Draco wasn't looking at him and Harry had a sort of déjà-vu, last time he had asked Draco to look at him and his eyes had been filled with tears. He felt the guilt again and closed his eyes with a pained expression remembering Ginny for a moment.

"I'm sorry." He whispered and heard a sharp intake of breath but he didn't dare to look up. "I'm sorry if I hurt you, I'm sorry to bother you now but I just have know…"

"Don't." this time he did look up to see Draco leaning against the wall, his breathing was faster than normal and he looked terrified.

"What happened? What happened that day?" Draco shook his head. Harry took a step forward and extended his hand to touch Draco's. The minute his finger touched the pale hand a powerful jolt of electricity travelled his body. He felt his cock twitch and saw Draco's eyes widened. Harry, suddenly feeling bolder, stepped closer until his breath was touching Draco's lips.

"Tell me you didn't feel that. Tell me you don't want me. Tell me that I bore you." Harry could see how the fear in Draco's eyes turned into anger. Intense, burning anger. He was beautiful like that. Harry hadn't seen that look for more than a year. It was all the passion and intensity of their relationship in that look. Draco growled and taking Harry's wrists in his hands harshly he slammed his back into the wall pinning his arms above his head. Pain exploded in his back and in the back of his head.

"Damn it, Potter! Is it so hard to understand that I don't want to see you anymore? Why can't you just leave me alone?" Both their breathings were fast and erratic, though for different reasons. Harry felt all the pent up lust for Draco fill every fibber of his body. Draco was clearly enraged but then his eyes fell on Harry's lips. Harry licked them by reflex and the grey eyes darkened in lust.

He felt like he was on fire as he too looked at Draco's perfect, seductive lips. He groaned softly, needing to let go some of his lust or he would combust right there. The blond's face came closer; his lips were parted inviting a kiss. Harry couldn't take it anymore he pushed his head from the wall and tried to capture the lips but they pulled back. He whimpered in frustration and tried to free his hands but it was futile. When had Draco gotten so strong? Or was it he who was weaker in his present state?

He went back, hitting his head against the wall, not very hard, but enough to revive the pain of his previous hit. An animalistic urge possessed him. He _wanted_ those lips. He growled and leaped again this time almost managing to capture them. His upper lip touched Draco's like a whisper and he felt Draco's breath enter his mouth. _Oh god!_ He felt like a chained beast and his prey was just outside his reach. He tore his eyes from the lips and locked them with Draco's. They were open wide and filled with lust and… fear?

Very slowly Draco's face came closer and Harry waited, luring his prey but prepared to jump at any time. Just as he was about to attack Draco came forward quickly and pressed his cheek to Harry whispering directly in his ear.

"Stop. I can't. I just can't. Please, don't push me any more. Let me go." Harry's mind came back to sanity slowly and he processed the words he was hearing. He had promised not to hurt him, not to push too hard. This was the limit. He breathed in and out carefully, trying to calm his hormone-filled body. When he was back in control he whispered back:

"I'm not the one trapping the other." Draco's eyelashes tickled his cheek and the hold on his wrists slackened. He felt Draco's soft lips pressing against his earlobe in the sweetest way. He suddenly understood that the day when Draco left him, all the sweetness, the kindness had been a way to thank him. He had already thought about it that way but he understood that for Draco it was a way to say goodbye, to tell him that he was appreciated, that he wasn't like the others but he couldn't be with him anyway. And the reason he couldn't be with Harry wasn't something Harry had done wrong, it was something about Draco that didn't allow anyone to get too close.

Harry sighed and let himself enjoy the last moments of being enveloped by Draco's presence. One last time. He inhaled the scent, and tuned his head a bit to feel the heat from Draco's cheek. Draco took a deep breath and stepped back. Without anything more than a sad look he opened the door to Santiago's flat and stepped inside, leaving Harry alone in the dirty corridor. Harry slid down the wall, his shaky knees unable to support him any longer. He felt empty again. Had he felt that empty last time too?" _"The sort of person that enters a room and it feels the room shouldn't have existed without them."_ He understood Santiago's words now. The world shouldn't exist without Draco. His world shouldn't exist without Draco and yet, he had to learn to live in a world without him because that's what Draco had asked of him.

Slowly he got up and made his way out of the building.

* * *

Draco was drawing when the doorbell ring. Brian startled and accidentally dropped his paintbrush, sparkling Draco's drawing. They both cursed and Santiago came closer.

"Well, if you look at it from this side you have the cover of One Hundred and One Dalmatians." Draco huffed in faked indignation but couldn't keep from laughing as he turned his head and his still-nature did in fact resemble a bunch of dogs with spots. Still laughing he opened the door and his heart stopped for a second as he laid eyes on Harry Potter. On an absolutely gorgeous Harry.

He had known a few months before that he wanted Harry, that he was handsome, that his hair was addictive, that he had the most intense eyes in the world. But this, this was something else. Harry was incredible. He had lost his glasses and his eyes stood out even more, they looked like jewels. His clothes were stylish and fit him perfectly, a far cry from the loose clothes he used at school, they made him look refined and sexy. Some of his shock must've shown in his face because Brian's voice entered his mind calling his name and the worried tone pulled him out of his daze.

"Shh, leave him alone." Santiago whispered and Draco's slow mind processed the fact that it was his fault Harry was here.

"What's going on?" asked Brian, adjusting his voice to a low whisper.

"It's the guy Draco's in love with."

"You brought him here?"

"Yes."

"Are you insane?!"

"No, I think he could be good for him."

"But that's not for you to decide! I thought you had learned your lesson!"

"Don't you talk about that! This is different!"

"I'm going." Brian huffed and started to get up. Draco didn't know if he wanted him to save him or not.

"No, you're not. You have no reason to interfere. Draco can handle himself."

"Damn you, Santiago! I hate how you always manage to manipulate people and look innocent." Santiago glared at him and started to defend himself but Draco had turned to look at Harry again.

"What the hell are you doing here, Potter?" He said with all the rage he could manage. Santiago and Brian were getting louder and by the way Harry's eyes shot to the door, he was starting to hear them. Harry opened his mouth several times before he could say:

"I wanted to see you."

"You don't know half the story!"

"Perhaps you don't either! But you just don't think, do you?! Just like last time."

"Fuck you!"

Draco cursed at the whole situation. He didn't want them fighting because of him and he didn't know what to do about Harry.

"Just perfect." He muttered. Then he turned to Harry thinking that if he could make him leave quickly the consequences wouldn't be too big. "Well, there" he made show of posing for Harry. "You saw me." He tried to close the door but Harry blocked it. He sent a puppy-eyed look and Draco almost melted right there.

"Please, can we just… talk for a bit?

He though he had to get inside and stop them from fighting and opened his mouth to say it. But he wanted him so much. That was exactly why he didn't want to see him. He didn't know if he could control himself. He looked inside and glared at Santiago. It was his fault! He huffed and spat: "I'll be back." Brian turned to look at him as if he was going to stop him but Draco quickly stepped outside and closed the door.

He turned on the light, which only made more visible the filthiness of the place but also how much Harry had improved. Draco wanted to jump him and he hated himself for it. He glared at Harry and leaned against the wall opposite him.

"Talk." Harry flinched.

"How… how are you?" Draco almost snorted. '_I'm great. I found that almost all the things I believed about the world and myself were false. You scare the shit out of me and at the same time I want to fuck you right here and it's so confusing I feel my mind is going to implode.'_ He looked away.

"Fine." They both stayed quiet and if this wasn't the most awkward conversation he had ever had he would give up his whole fortune.

"I'm sorry." Draco felt the words hit him like a kick to the chest. Harry wasn't supposed to be sorry, he hadn't done anything wrong. It was all Draco, all Draco's weaknesses, fears and emotional unbalance. "I'm sorry if I hurt you, I'm sorry to bother you now but I just have to know…"

"Don't." Draco cut in trying to block out the words that he was saying. Harry wanted to know. Like a cat wants to know what's out the window. But curiosity killed the cat. Draco couldn't let Harry see what he wanted to see. The fear defeated every other feeling for a moment and he had to lean more against the wall to keep himself from running away.

"What happened? What happened that day?" '_I can't tell you that'_. He was starting to shake, he knew it. Suddenly Harry was in front of him, his hand trying to catch Draco's. Draco tried to get away but he was too late and the touch triggered a sort of mass breakdown in his body. He had never felt like that with anyone. Lust was fighting fear and both were in equal amounts. His eyes widened in surprise at the intensity of the feeling, from just one touch.

"Tell me you didn't feel that. Tell me you don't want me. Tell me that I bore you." Draco gritted his teeth. He felt anger rise in him. Why was Potter pushing so much? Hadn't he been clear enough? He wanted him away. He was in his right to choose who he slept with, wasn't he? And what if those words had been lies? He had clearly stated that he didn't want to see Harry, the reasons didn't matter. What right did he have to call on his lies?

He caught Harry wrists and pinned him to the wall in front of him with more force that he intended.

"Damn it, Potter! Is it so hard to understand that I don't want to see you anymore? Why can't you just leave me alone?" As his anger diminished a bit he noticed how suggestive their positions were. He had Harry's wrists above his head and their faces were extremely close. His eyes fell to Harry's red lips. They were so kissable it was unbearable not to kiss them. A pink tongue came out to wet the lips, leaving them nice and shining. His cock started to harden. Harry groaned and the sound seemed connected to his cock. Like pulled by a magnet his lips started to fall to those unnaturally red lips in front of him. His lips parted in anticipation. Harry tried to meet him in the middle but Draco wasn't ready, his fear pulled him back. Harry whimpered and chased his lips but Draco stayed out of reach, holding the wrists tightly when they moved, trying to get out of his hold.

The look on Harry's face as he leaned back was by far the most arousing thing Draco had ever seen and probably the most scary too. It was the look of a predator. Draco couldn't decide if he wanted to be caught or not. Harry growled and Draco was completely hard. In his lust he almost wasn't quick enough to avoid Harry's attack and their lips touched and their breath mingled. Harry squirmed in obvious frustration but Draco was afraid of what he would release if he let him go now. His eyes widened as images of what could happen assaulted his brain. But he couldn't let it happen, he couldn't give himself to Harry.

He leaned closer slowly trying to see the best way to catch the beast without being bitten. Finally he decided to take it by surprise and as quickly as he could he leaned in completely, pressing his cheek against Harry's. He had to calm Harry before he let go. He had to get away from him forever. With his heart heavy with sadness as he whispered:

"Stop. I can't. I just can't. Please, don't push me any more. Let me go."

Those words were the truth and it hurt him so much to say them. He felt Harry relax against him and sigh. After a few careful breaths he whispered back:

"I'm not the one trapping the other." _Yes, you are_. Draco softened his hold on Harry's wrists until it was merely symbolic. He saw the little mole just behind Harry's earlobe. _His_ little mole. He kissed it softly, fighting against the urge to pull the earlobe in his mouth. Harry moved his head a bit to the side, pressing even more against him. Draco took a deep whiff of Harry's familiar scent and stepped back. With one last look at the beautiful man and then went inside the flat.

Brian was painting, obviously still mad and taking it out on the canvas and Santiago was leaning against the window with an expectant look on his face.

Draco closed his eyes and leaned against the door trying to calm his heart and breathing. How could someone get through all his defences so easily? He heard Brian curse and the paintbrush hit the floor.

"I'm leaving." He stated and Draco heard him come near the door. He opened his eyes and saw that Brian was going to touch him, probably to comfort him and he glided out of reach, wanting to keep Harry as the last person who touched him for a bit longer. Brian looked at him in confusion, lowered his face and left.

"I'm sorry." He heard Santiago say.

"No you're not."

"Alright, I'm not." Draco huffed and glared at Santiago. "I thought I was doing the right thing for you. I'm not that kind of person, I hate being the one who manipulates people's lives, I _hate_ it. I really thought that it was the only way to make you happy."

Santiago sighed and took his usual position on the red divan, lounging like a roman nobleman with his hair spread all around him. Draco stared at him through half lidded eyes. Seeing Harry had shocked him to the core. He knew before that it would be hard to see him again but what he imagined was nothing compared to the real thing. His thoughts were beginning to make a bit of sense again. He hated being weak like that. He wanted to end Harry power over him. Before seeing him he had thought it was all for Harry, to spare Harry the pain but now he understood that most of his rejection was to spare himself from pain. He didn't want it anymore. He didn't want to think about the fire. He wanted things to be like they had been before Harry, just after the war when he didn't feel anything, when he didn't feel all the pain.

He walked to stand next to the divan, Santiago looked up at him with his dark, dark eyes and Draco did the only thing he could think of to stop thinking about Harry. He bent down and kissed him in the mouth. Santiago gasped a little in surprise and Draco took the chance to deepen the kiss but the man didn't respond. Draco didn't care, he needed this. He straddled the thin hips with his thighs and plunged his hands in the soft hair, massaging the scalp, trying to ignore the immense feeling of wrongness. This was not wrong. This was who he really was. Soft hands cradled his face, cupping his cheeks tenderly, before pushing it away. Draco tried to continue the kiss but the hands on his face kept him steady.

"Don't do it, Draco, you'll only hurt yourself more." Santiago said looking into his eyes with concern. Draco growled and snatched the hands away from his face, pinning them above Santiago's head. It felt horrible to think he had had Harry in a similar position just a few minutes ago so Draco blocked out the thought

"Stop trying to control my life. You're just a muggle, you know nothing about me." He spat in his face. The dark face contorted in confusion and hurt and then turned to look at a far side of the room. Draco didn't want to care. He was horny and hurt. He bent down again to kiss the neck, sucking and nibbling, ignoring all his feelings and thoughts. He didn't want to think anymore. He reached down and undid Santiago trousers pinning both hands with one of his. The dark-haired man didn't try to get out of his hold and didn't look at him at all. Draco didn't want to care. He took the half-hard cock in his hand and stroked it until it was completely erect.

He aligned the two cocks and started rocking his hips, groaning a little at the friction. Santiago closed his eyes and his lips parted slightly to let out a soft moan. Draco let go of the hands and cupped both of Santiago's cheeks with his hands, capturing the mouth in a passionate kiss. This time he received a heated response. Santiago reached down with both hands to grab Draco's arse cheeks harshly and force him to go faster and harder.

Santiago came first, biting down hard on Draco's lower lip and arching his back. Draco followed not long after and Harry's face was what he saw as he did. He collapsed on the man beneath him feeling dirtier and more worthless than he had ever felt. He shut his eyes tight trying to hold the tears in but it was in vain. A great sob raked his body and the tears fell. He buried his face in the cushions next to Santiago's head. Strong arm enveloped him in a tight embrace and it hit him that he had practically raped the man who was now comforting him. _ Such a worthless son of a bitch I am._

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He sobbed.

"Shh." Santiago tried to sooth him, his hands were drawing circled on Draco's back in a calming motion. "It's all right. It's going to be all right."

Draco wanted to believe the words but he couldn't.

Please review and let me know if you see a mistake. Someone asked me about kreatcher so I tried to include him but it just didn't fit, Let's just asume Kreatcher is now working in hogwarts permanently.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Any recognisable characters, spells, places and story line belong to J.K Rowling and her associates. I am not making any money out of this. All the titles except "mine" are from Pink Floyd songs (again, they don't belong to me...)

**WARNING**: Explicit language, a bit of gore, doubtious conscent, a bit of D/s, bi-sexuality, angst, slash (I forgot this one in last chapter).

A/N: I'm still looking for a beta, if you see any mistakes please let me know. I hope you like this chapterand don't worry everything will be explained in the next chapter. I don't know now if the next one is going to be the last or if I'm going to post an epilogue or even another chapter. We'll see how things go, if it's too long I'll cut it in half.

**Chapter 4: Shine On You Crazy Diamond **

Narcissa knew her son. She knew him better than anyone in the world and a lot more than any woman normally knows her son. She was always attuned to him or perhaps she was only very accomplished in the art of reading people, but anyway, she could always tell what he was feeling. Now was no different. For a year Draco had been hiding from himself and his feelings, she knew that. In fact she knew he had always been hiding from his feelings, almost to the point where he had a double personality much more accentuated than anyone else she knew. Well, not anyone, she had often wondered if Draco wasn't the reincarnation of Regulus but that wasn't important now.

Before Lucius disappearance she thought Draco was only hiding his real self from his father, creating a completely different persona to suit his father's expectations and it was this persona he showed to the world because Lucius had always thought it wise to make his son believe he had ways of knowing everything he did, in and out of the Manor. But when Lucius ran away, Draco's imprisonment should've ended and it didn't, it just changed form. Draco had developed in the later years resentment towards his father because he knew he couldn't be free because of him. And then Lucius was gone and Draco was free from living up to his expectation but instead of accepting his real self he had continued hiding but now from himself. Narcissa had realised then that even if Draco resented his father, his idea of what someone should be was still what Lucius showed himself to be: cold, without any consideration for the feeling of others, never letting the events getting the best of him, never affected by the world around him. And now that was what Draco was trying to be but it was eating him alive.

He had managed to keep the act all school year. Never showing he missed his father, never showing how much the war had affected him, never showing he was any different from his father. Narcissa had known very well what Draco was up to during his school year and knew it was his way of telling himself that he was free from his father and rebelling against him in that very superficial fashion so he didn't have to face the fact that he wasn't rebelling at all.

But the inevitable had happened, the inner self became too big to hide and Narcissa had a feeling it had to do with Harry Potter. Well, more than just a feeling. One morning she had felt the wards in the Manor warning that someone unwanted was trying to get in. She had used a spell to spy on this unwanted visitor and had found a naked Harry Potter at the doors. This was a shock, not only because of the absurdity of the situation but because Narcissa herself had made sure Harry was allowed in without even alerting her or her son, that privilege wasn't even granted to those closest to the family. The only possible explanation was that Draco had keyed the wards not to allow Potter in. She didn't know why he had done that but she only had to wait to dinner that evening when one look at her son's face told her pretty much what had happened. Somehow, Harry Potter had cracked Draco's defence walls. Of course, Draco didn't say anything, he always liked to pretend he didn't know Narcissa could look right through him, or perhaps he thought it was unnecessary to even talk to her about those sorts of things.

She wasn't sure how Harry Potter had managed to do what no one else had until she had seen him later that evening and he had collapsed in tears at the look of her. She knew perfectly well that even if Draco looked very much like his father, someone who looked closely enough could see that in fact, what made Draco beautiful, so much more beautiful than his father, he had gotten from her. And she understood then how much Harry loved her son, how profoundly. And he didn't understand why Draco didn't want him anymore. He didn't understand that it wasn't his fault at all, that he had been the only one to see beyond Draco's façade and loved him for who he really was. And most of all he didn't understand how that simple act had affected Draco.

That had been a very hard test for Narcissa. She loved her son, more than anything in the world. But she knew how few purebloods were left in the world. Her family was disappearing, all of that for which hundreds of generations had worked so hard to keep alive was dying and it was her responsibility to avoid that. She wanted to see a little pureblood child running around the house again. It wasn't a matter of superiority, she no longer felt superior to those who didn't have pure blood but it was her culture, her traditions that were disappearing. She owed it to Regulus and to her parents to continue the bloodline. Perhaps little Teddy Lupin would be taught the traditions by Andromeda as she knew it had been her sister's will to teach them to her daughter but her husband had been reluctant to let her. Perhaps now he was dead she would ensure that kind of education to her grandson. But it was still unsure and even more if he didn't marry a pureblood later it was very possible that it would be lost with him. Draco would surely teach his child everything Narcissa and Lucius had taught him.

It was impossible to know if Draco would one day meet a sweet pureblood girl who would love him, give him a child or two and make him happy. She didn't want to give up on that hope. Maybe Harry Potter wasn't the only person for her son. She felt a little guilty of course, knowing that she was hurting the man who had saved Draco in more than one way and she did everything she could to comfort him, except what he really needed, a chance to confront Draco. She was hoping that Draco would forget about Potter quickly and move on. She made sure to be available for him but didn't interfere with his process. She didn't even bothered him when her contact in Knockturn Alley told her he was buying recreational potions but she did have her elves watching over him constantly to assist him if he ever endangered himself.

But she knew she was trying very hard to fool herself. Draco was changing; he was getting more in touch with his true self. She had seen his drawings, his natural talent. A talent he had showed many times when he was a child but Lucius had always disapproved of it.

One afternoon she came to the Manor after helping Harry choose his dinning room and the first thing she thought was she had arrived to the wrong place. A very loud music was making the ancestral home vibrate to its rhythm. It took her a while to see all the house elves gathered in front of the fireplace looking hopelessly at her.

"Mistress Narcissa! Master Draco is being very strange." Nimbly shrieked. Narcissa looked around, every drawer of her study was open and clearly had been thoroughly searched. She wandered around the house. Every room had been searched to the last corner. When she got to Lucius's room and saw Draco, so very like his father, lying on Lucius's bed, she knew what had happened. He had been looking for everything he didn't understand; he had been looking for everything he missed and he had found his past. The past he had denied, he had hidden from himself. That was when she knew how selfish she had been. She felt like she had that day in the woods, seeing Harry Potter lying there and knowing he was her only chance to save her son. Draco was in pain and she knew what she had to do to end that pain. Nothing else mattered. It didn't matter if she never had grandchildren. It didn't matter if her parents were rolling in their graves and she knew Regulus would've approved if he knew the whole situation. She held her son, who was crying in her arms like he hadn't done since he was a little boy and she knew what she had to do.

* * *

Harry lay on the comfortable blue sofa on his drawing room. It was his second favourite room in the house now, the first being his bedroom. This room, even if no one commented on it directly, was the 'Narcissa Malfoy' room. It was all done in soft shades of blue with tasteful details in silver and the big windows allowed the sun to draw streaks of golden light on the walls and floor. He couldn't enter this room without having a mental image of the beautiful woman who had inspired it.

He had a glass of fire whiskey in his hand, dangling dangerously near the floor. His other hand was covering its owner's eyes from the afternoon sun with and elbow on the back of the sofa.

He sighed deeply and turned his head to look at the fireplace that had been enlarged to allow people to come out of it more comfortably. It was strange, he had mused, how, for a population who had developed entirely apart from muggles, they had decided to adapt to a muggle invention for means of communication and not once thought of making it more comfortable. Muggles were smart that way, they always discovered the more comfortable and less effort demanding way of doing things. It was probably because they had to do a lot of things without magic.

This floo thing was really ironic, in Harry's opinion. It was the only way of communicating with other wizards without leaving home for purebloods and they had to kneel in front of the fireplace to do that. Even worse, when they travelled by it they had to bend their backs to get out of the fireplace. For people who thought they were royalty, it seemed a bit absurd.

He thought of Marie Antoinette, the wife of Louis XVI, as she had been introduced to him in his muggle school. They had told him there that when the French people had decided to decapitate her they had locked her in a prison cell to spend her last days. The revolutionaries had, in their desire to prove they were better than her, placed a door on her cell that was too small for her to go through without bowing. For her it had been the highest insult and as she left the cell to meet her death, she hadn't bowed, she had bent her knees just enough to get her through the door and always kept her back and neck straight and her head high.

What would Marie Antoinette think of this floo network? She would probably scoff at the ones who invented it. With that in mind, and as this was the 'Narcissa Malfoy' room and she was the closest thing he knew to royalty, Harry decided to make the fireplace tall enough for people to come out of it without bowing.

He felt healthier. Not happy, of course he wasn't happy, he doubted he would ever be happy without Draco. But he felt as if someone had cleaned his soul and left it shining and new. It had required a lot of thinking, a lot of looking inside himself and trying to judge from an objective point of view. He knew his mistakes and flaws and there were many, but he had come to accept them and live with them. He had finally, finally, left the war behind. Of course, there were things that would never leave him, a certain way of looking a room as he first entered it, looking for all threats and ways out. But he had finally accepted the deaths, the wounds as things that even if they had not been not necessary there was no way of changing them. He had let all the guilt go, all the resentment.

He had forgiven himself for all his mistakes during the war. He had forgiven the Weasleys for abandoning him and decided that if they ever came back he would at least listen to them carefully before deciding whether or not give them another chance. He had forgiven himself for hurting Ginny. He had forgiven Ginny for making him feel like it was a duty to be with her and had forgiven himself for not telling her sooner about Draco. He had forgiven himself for hurting Draco and accepted that he had to leave Draco to solve his problems the way he wanted to solve them.

He had accepted the fact that Draco was the most wonderful and the most beautiful thing that had happened in his life. He had accepted the fact that he would always love him. But he had also accepted the fact that there were other beautiful things in the world, other pleasures, they were simpler and less dazzling but they were there and he had the right to enjoy them. He had accepted that even if he wished with all his heart he was with Draco, it was possible to live without him.

To live, not merely to survive.

He was capable of having a pleasant life even if it didn't include Draco. That didn't mean he was going to jump to another relationship, in fact it would probably take him years to look at anyone in a remotely romantic way. He knew he wasn't going to love anyone as much as he loved Draco but maybe in some years he would find someone that made him feel cherished and that he loved back, in a more reasonable and subdued way.

He had finally given up on suffering as if he deserved it. He wasn't going to torture himself anymore with things that he could do nothing about. And that was his final victory against the Dursleys. He wasn't a freak. He didn't deserve all the responsibilities and pains imposed to him. He wasn't to blame for all the things that went wrong in the world.

The date was the 24th of October. Twenty year ago a man had decided to give up on everything he believed and everyone he loved to do what he thought was right. His life was still a mystery to Harry as was the life of his family. In a way, Harry thought, the family history had been a mystery to Sirius too. He had been too close, had had too much resentment to see them. Harry didn't want to live his life with those kinds of blindfolds.

He was planning on calling for Kreacher and privately have a small ceremony in Regulus' honour. Something simple, to light a candle and have a minute of silence for him or something like that. He had spent the day going through all the administrative papers of the Black fortune, getting familiar with all that was now his. The family had several investments of different kinds to ensure the constant growth of the fortune and some properties he was going to have to go to and evaluate what could be done with them. But that would have to be done another day. He was tired and it felt like something really important to acknowledge somehow his immense gratitude towards Regulus. It wasn't because he had been of great help to the war but because his existence had made Harry feel less lonely in a way.

He slowly got up from his comfortable position and sat on the sofa for a moment, setting the glass of fire-whiskey on the table. The fire in the fireplace turned emerald green and a very elegant Mrs. Malfoy came out of it. She looked down at her blue robe, which was absolutely magnificent in Harry's humble opinion.

"I have to tell the house-elves to put this spell in the Manor." She said in a whisper. Harry had found in a very old book in the Black library a spell that automatically cleaned the person who came out of a hearth so that they weren't covered in soot.

"Mrs. Malfoy." Harry bowed to her slightly. "I thought you would be making last minutes arrangements for the party."

"I am." She smiled at him and he was sure for the first time that there was mischievous glint in her eyes. He tried not to fear, but this was an extremely intelligent woman, like the Weasley twins, it wasn't comforting at all to see her mischievous. "Why aren't you dressed?"

Harry looked down at his clothes. He was dressed, just a fitting jean and a loose shirt that showed his collarbone. He lifted an eyebrow at her.

"I am dressed."

"Of course your not, you're not going to go like that to the party are you?"

Harry's stomach fell.

"Mrs. Malfoy, I'm not g…"

"Don't you dare telling me you're not going! You have to go. I have already told some of the guest you would be there. How am I going to face them if you don't show up?"

Harry wanted to stomp his foot at the unfairness. He didn't care for what the snobbish idiots in that party thought but this was Mrs. Malfoy and she had done so much for him.

"But…" He tried but no valid excuse came out. 'Your son doesn't want to see me because I would probably end up shoving him into a closet and fucking the life out of him' didn't seem like the proper thing to say.

"But what, Harry? Is there a reason you don't want to be there?" She threw him a meaningful look, but what the meaning behind it was, Harry didn't know. He felt uneasy. Did she know something? He sighed, he was trapped anyway.

"Okay, I'll go but please help me select the clothes, I'm in no mood for thinking that hard." She chuckled and let the way into his enormous and frankly still quite scary closet.

* * *

Harry fidgeted uncomfortably while standing just outside the grand ballroom the party was taking place. He didn't want to go in. If he saw Draco he wouldn't be able to control all his reactions and Draco would probably feel like Harry was breaking their 'agreement'. He heard a loud and ugly cackle near the door that sounded vaguely familiar but he couldn't quite place it. Finally he took a deep breath and stepped through the doors. There was a second of pause where everyone's head turned to see him and then everybody's eyes widened simultaneously. The room was full of people in expensive dresses and haughty looks, he recognised several of the formal Slytherins who were the ones who looked away first. He didn't see Draco anywhere and he sighed in relief. Even if it was only for a little while he didn't have to face him just yet.

He heard the cackle again and turned to see whom it belonged. He gaped a little in surprise as he saw a little old woman with red-rimmed eyes and aquiline nose dressed in a hideous peach-coloured dress.

"Harry Potter!" she shouted and he cringed. He could still remember all the insults she had thrown at him during Bill and Fleur's wedding, albeit unknowingly as he was under polijuice potion that day. Aunt Muriel, the old, bad tempered witch was at a Malfoy party. He remembered she had allowed the Weasley's to crash in her house during the war so, even if she was prejudiced and rude, she was on the light side. What was she doing in a party in the honour of a known Deatheater?

She slammed her bony hand to his arm with surprising strength. He looked at her thinking quickly. She didn't know he knew her.

"If you don't mind me asking, madam, who are you?" Her eyes narrowed a bit but she answered anyway.

"Muriel Prewett. You were close to my niece's family, right?" Harry noticed the past tense and looked aside.

"I was, yes." He should find an excuse and leave now, before she could start insulting him.

"Ja! What a friend you are, getting Ginevra in that state! Leaving like that with a foot already in the altar! She had already asked to borrow my tiara!" Harry stayed quiet; he owed no explanation to this woman. "What are you doing here anyway? Regulus Black was a Deatheater!" Harry tried to get away bur she clutched his arm enough to hurt. "Do you know what Rita Skeeter is writing about you?" Harry clenched his fists and took a deep breath to keep from shouting. That had been one of the many unpleasant surprises after the war. Even after she had collaborated with Voldemort with her articles during the war, people forgot about Rita Skeeter's role and now she was even more popular than before. He _hated_ that woman. And he did know what she was saying. She was saying that Harry was in fact the next Dark Lord and he had only killed Voldemort to clear the way. He was one second away from being extremely rude to Aunt Muriel when a familiar soft voice rose from behind him sending shivers all over his body.

"Personally I do not care for anything a woman like Rita Skeeter has to say." Draco came to stand at Harry's side and he felt a warm hand ghosting the small of his back. His heart started beating erratically and he forced his body to stand perfectly still knowing that any movement would lead to leaning into Draco. "She is a foul woman who has done a lot more harm to the wizarding world than good." Aunt Muriel looked at Draco in a way Harry recognised as the look of someone who had fallen into Draco's spell but was still fighting against it. "As for Regulus, I think I remember quite distinctly the stories about how you adored him even if he was a Deatheater and how he was your favourite "nephew" even if you weren't really his aunt."

She looked defiant and indignant but seemed to be unable to answer and an ugly blush appeared on her face. Draco turned a bit so he was facing Harry's profile.

"Would you care to join me for a drink Mr. Potter? I believe we have some issues to discuss." Harry nodded, unable to form any coherent words or even to look at Draco. He let himself be guided through the guests by that hand that wasn't really touching his back but was _there_, and out to the gardens. The hand fell away and Harry almost sagged in relief. His head was spinning and he was feeling the familiar magnetic pull towards the blond but he resisted.

"What are you doing here, Potter?" That seemed to become the normal beginning in their conversations. But the tone was different from last time. It wasn't really angry, just weary.

"Your mother invited me. I tried to tell her I didn't want to come but she insisted…" He stopped as he caught Draco's face from the corner of his eye. It was pale and hard and his eyes were flashing with anger.

"Why would my mother invite you?" he hissed.

"I…" Harry began but he really had no idea why he had been invited. He felt a little tug in the sleeve of his magnificent bottle-green robes and looked in time to see Draco's long elegant fingers touching it. His head clouded even more. Draco huffed and Harry knew the sound to mean extreme indignation.

"Of course," Draco began with a voice so full of scorn Harry flinched. "How could I not see it before? The clothes, the glasses… Tell me Potter," he spat the name as he used to do in their early teens, "what did you tell her? Did you tell her about all the times we were together? Did you tell her a heart-breaking story about how I left you without a reason and how you wanted me back? Did you beg for her help?"

Harry stared dumb-founded. What on earth was Draco going on about?

"What are…"

"Oh, don't play dumb on me Potter, I know my mother's hand. I know she chose this robe for you and also the clothes you were wearing that day. It's all her!" Harry looked into the stormy eyes trying to figure out what bothered Draco.

"I… yes, she chose these for me, she took me out for shopping." He smiled a bit, trying to break the uncomfortable mood. "She was quite determined to turn me into a 'respectable young man'." But he knew he had made a mistake when Draco's fist collided with the wall. He looked around to make sure no one was out in the garden then he looked up again to Draco's face. "I don't understand why you are so mad… I'm not here to bother you or to ruin you evening, I'm just here because your mother requested me to be."

"Why are you even talking to her?" Draco's voice had softened a bit but his face was still hard as steel. Harry remembered how once he had told Draco he had talked to his mother for a while and how Draco had tensed up and refused to even talk about it.

"I have been talking to her for a while now. Since we came back from Hogwarts." Draco growled. "But I didn't tell her anything about us!"

"Don't lie, Potter, it doesn't suit you." It was Harry's turn to growl in frustration.

"I'm not!"

There was a crack and a little elf appeared and squeaked at Draco's face. Harry had to admit, it was positively scary, but not less beautiful because of it.

"What?!" snapped the blond.

"Ma- Master Draco, dinner is being served in a minute!" he cried and disappeared with a pop.

Draco turned to glare at Harry one last time before storming into the room. Harry leaned into the wall, already getting used to having his life force snatched away from him by the blond's sudden departures.

* * *

Draco felt the anger and fury filling his body rapidly. He was still mad at himself for the whole deal with Santiago and for not being able to just get over the stupid feelings he had for Potter. He was mad at Potter for not leaving him the hell alone. He was mad at his mother for interfering in his life. He was mad at Potter for talking to his mother and using her to get to him. He hated the thought of Potter and his mother talking. It was way too scary. She knew too much about him and to think Potter had access to such a source of information! As if he didn't know already too much, as if he needed to be more vulnerable!

He stepped into the enormous dinning room and saw that the long table was beautifully decorated. Just as Potter was absolutely ravishing today. Draco had needed all his will force not to jump him. But of course, that was Narcissa's doing. He took his seat right next to his mother. She was at the head of the table and he sat to her right. She smiled at him lovingly and he scowled at her. He knew, when her eyes twinkled and her smile broadened everything was going according to her plan. The rage multiplied. He hated being at the mercy of other people's plans and he knew he was no match for his mother. Whatever she had in store for him, he would have to live with it.

Potter came into the room and Narcissa instructed him to seat at her other side. Right. In. Front. Of. Draco.

He was having trouble breathing. He felt trapped, forced to act against his will. Just like the Dark Lord had forced him. He looked at Potter talking casually to his mother, as if they were good friends. Damn him! Damn his pitch-dark, unruly, enslaving hair! Damn his unnaturally bright eyes! Damn his perfectly fit body! Damn his tanned golden skin! Damn the way those robes fitted him!

Narcissa eyes were amused as she laid them on him and he hated her for a moment. There was food in front of him now and it was only years of harsh practice that allowed him to eat it and appear normal when all he wanted was to explode from all the anger boiling in him.

The dinner seemed to take ages. Several speeches were given in honor of Regulus but he didn't listened to a word of it. In fact he didn't think he looked away from Potter trying to retain some of his sanity in front of the violent storm of outrage in his mind. Their eyes met a couple of times and he knew Potter could tell Draco's mood was getting worse. People got up from the table and Potter went to Narcissa to whisper something in her ear. Draco could make out the general meaning of his words: he was leaving. Draco decided to hold back his anger two minutes and if Potter wasn't out of the Manor by then… well, he didn't know what would happen but it wasn't going to be nice.

He stood up slowly, trying to control his body language. Potter was at the door. Then something happened so quickly he had to pause to figure out what it was. Just as Potter was going through the shadow cast by a column he disappeared out of thin air. No one else noticed. Draco looked at his mother and caught her triumphant look a second before he felt a tiny hand grabbing his wrist and pulling him into darkness.

* * *

Harry was trying very hard to maintain his word to Santiago. It was clear that Draco didn't want him in his life, near his family, near himself. He had seen Draco's eyes turn look at him in outrage for his presence through out dinner. He didn't understand it completely and it hurt. He wanted to get the hell out of there before breaking down in front of so many people. That was until he was taken away by side-along Apparition. He landed in a room he recognized instantly as Draco's even if it had changed a lot since the last time he had been there. He saw movement next to his knees and looked down to see a tiny house-elf fidgeting nervously.

"Why did you bring me here?"

"Bidy is being ordered to take Mr. Potter to Master Draco's room by Mistress Narcissa. Bidy is having to keep Mr. Potter here." She shrieked. Harry was startled by a loud pop and his stomach fell when he saw Draco being dragged by another house elf. Draco looked up and as he laid eyes on Harry he growled savagely. The two house-elves Dissapparated instantly. Suddenly Harry was thrown against the wall and a strong hand closed around his neck.

"So this is your brilliant plan?" Draco spat, his face inches from Harry's. "To lock yourself in a room alone with me?!"

Harry tried to deny it but he couldn't speak without his air supply. He shook his head and looked pleadingly at Draco. It was absurd. Being alone there was the last thing he would plan right now. He needed to step away, to accept that he had to remove himself completely from anything regarding the man he loved. Draco pressed into him, applying more pressure to his neck and making Harry's vision blur but at the same time he pressed Harry's groin. It didn't take long, between Draco's breath on his face and his leg rubbing up against him for Harry to start getting hard, against his better judgement.

"Such _lies_" Draco whispered and he pressed his thigh harder against Harry's crotch. Harry's vision was darkening and he knew he would pass out soon if Draco didn't let go. "Is this what you want?" Suddenly he felt the wonderful lips against his and the hand in his neck fell away. He wanted it too much, he had longed for those lips for so long. He moaned and he opened his mouth, turning his head to the side to deepen the kiss. He felt Draco's hands plunging in his hair and tugging desperately and a bit painfully. He hugged the warm body in front of his, clinging like his life depended on it and plunging his tongue into the blond's mouth.

He was pulled away from the kiss by the hair. He hissed in pain and frustration. But then he saw Draco's face and had a second to prepare himself for what was about to happen. Draco threw him to the bed harshly facing down. He felt a hand on the back of his head pressing his face into the sheets.

"Is this it, Potter? Is this what you want?" He buckled with all his might but only managed to turn his head to the side, his cheek was still firmly pressed against the bed. That was enough.

"YES" he shouted because, what else could he shout? He had never wanted anything as much. His trousers were ripped away quickly, he heard the fabric taring apart at some point and tried to breathe. He felt Draco's chest pressing against his back, the heat seeping through the fabric separating their bodies. The hardness pressing against his arse was filthy and delicious. He felt hot breath hit his neck and ear before his earlobe was bitten hard.

"Fuck..." he groaned, rutting into the mattres beneath him.

"Stop." His body obeyed before he even registered the order. For a moment he could only hear their heavy breathing and his pounding heart.

"You're just gagging for it, aren't you, _Potter_?" Draco's voice was low and gravely and it made Harry want to scream. He tried to maintain some dignity and managed not to answer with a pornographic moan, just a bit of a whine.

"You are. This is all you want. You just can't wait to feel my cock inside you." Through the lust haze Harry could barely understand what was happening. "It was all you wanted, wasn't it?"

Draco's warmth disappeared from his back along with the hand holding his head down. As soon as he was free he moved quickly and took off his pants without turning. Just as he was pulling them off his feet, he was harshly pushed into the previous position by Draco's hand twisting at his hair.

"Did I tell you to move?" Harry closed his eyes tightly, trying to pull himself from the infine pit of desire inside him that made this arousing. "Answer me!" The command made his abdominal muscles clench.

"No." He managed to drag out of his lungs. His mouth stayed open to groan into the covers when Draco tugged at his hair harder.

"No." Draco whispered the word slowly into Harry's ear as he quickly pressed a slick finger into his arse hole. It was far too quick, and unaided by any spell, it was distinctly uncomfortable, almost painful. "So you need to be punished now, don't you, Potter?"

"Yes." It was barely a whine, pulled out of him by the cock that was now rubbing between his arse cheeks, he could feel it was already covered in lube. Every time the head caught at his entrance he felt like he may actually die from it. And yet he knew perfectly well that he wasn't nearly ready enough. But the prospect of pain didn't appear to be such a bad one with Draco nibbling at his earlobe and curling a too tight fist around Harry's dick.

When the pain finally came it was far worse than he had imagined. It felt like being split in two. He screamed and bit into the covers trying to make himself relax. Draco paused for a second when his cock was fully seethed.

"You ready to obey now?"

"Draco." Harry whined, not sure of what he wanted and not ready at all. He was answered by teeth digging harshly into his shoulder. It was hard enough to break skin and draw blood, he's sure of it. "Yeah! Yes I'm ready!" he gasped.

Draco started to fuck him in earnest then. Harder than Harry ever fucking him. Hard enough that the cheeks of his butt hurt with the repeated impact. Hard enough that the bed rocked and groaned with it. Hard enough that the pain didn't go away, just merged into pleasure and made Harry scream and moan at the sheer intensity.

His mind was going blank, only focusing on the sensations created by that cock sliding in and out of him fast and hard. He felt a hand on his cock again and there was only so much his mind could cope with. It was absolutely ridiculous, but he felt his vision darken as the muscles of his belly contracted. No one would ever make him feel this sort of intensity. That was his last thought before he surrendered into darkness.

* * *

So yeah, if you hadn't read this story before and you just reached here, good for you! You have just been spared of the worst resolution sex-scene ever to have been written. So finally the shame was enough to make me come back and make it into something at least a little bit better. If you had read this before, then I'm glad I can change your perception of this story with this. I'm on to editing next chapter as well, I hope you all the best and thank you for reading! I do get every comment, even after two years, so feel free to give me your opinions.


	5. Chapter 5

**Warnings:** Slash, angst, explicit language, sex scene

**Rating: **R

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter. Any recognisable characters, spells, places and story line belong to J.K Rowling and her associates. I am not making any money out of this. All the titles except "mine" are from Pink Floyd songs (again, they don't belong to me...)

**A/N: **This chapter is dedicated to Airborn-Love, thanks for all your wonderful reviews! And thanks to everyone who has reviewed this story, pointing out mistakes or things to be improved! Don't freak out just yet, an epilogue is comming out tomorow, but I wanted to thank you all now. :D

**Mine**

**By**

**Denebola Eltanin Black**

**Part 2: Two Suns in the sunset**

**Chapter 5: Two Suns in the Sunset**

Mixed POV

A sharp pain shot through his spine as something warm touched his backside. He whimpered slightly, still half-asleep and heard a pained intake of breath behind him. Memories of the events the night before began to fill his brain and he felt something wet fall on his lower back. He was still in Draco's room nested in the expensive white sheets and there were cushions all around him that helped with the pain emanating from various places of his body. He was lying on his belly, unable to see what he supposed was Draco moving behind him.

He tried to twist his head and shoulders to look behind him but a warm and soft hand pressed between his shoulder blades stopped him. He felt a warm body ghosting over his back and lips being pressed softly in a sweet kiss behind his ear. His brain felt full of cotton, every thought slow and disconnected.

"Don't move." He heard a gentle voice whisper to his ear. He shivered and felt something stir in his gut remembering other, harsher words being whispered in his ear the night before. 'What the hell had all that been?' "I'm trying to heal you but you have to keep still for bit. I know it hurts but it will be gone in a minute."

"Okay." He answered, willing to go with the flow. A part of him didn't want to be healed; it wanted the pain and the reminder of the pleasure. Harry didn't know he had that part in him. He heard Draco murmur something and felt a little twinge of magic run through his body healing as it went. He sighed half in relief and half in disappointment as the pain in his shoulder and his muscles disappeared. Again he felt Draco's fingers pressing something warm and wet against his entrance and he tensed a bit, not willing to have another go just yet but unwilling to say so. He felt Draco's face in his neck again and his whole body shivered. Two tears fell on his cheek and he realised Draco was crying.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry" he sobbed in Harry's ear. "I'm not going to hurt you anymore, I promise." Harry frowned, not quite understanding. "I… there is still some damage inside you, I have to apply the healing salve in there."

Harry didn't understand at all now. He turned to look at Draco. His movement was a bit too sharp and it proved Draco's words entirely as the pain shot through his whole body. He moaned.

"Oh, god… I'm so sorry…" Draco was on the other side of the bed covering his face with his hands and clearly holding back sobs. Harry took a deep breath and pulled at the blond's wrists. Harry had never seen so much pain, someone so utterly lost and broken. Draco was laying there open and vulnerable for him to see. Harry tried to come out of his haze. A haze he didn't even understand.

Draco was drowning. It was the only way to describe it. He was drowning in the pain, a pain so intense he just wanted it to end. He had… he had… he couldn't even think about it, it was so horrible. Harry… Harry… the name filled his brain with every breath he took. Harry was hurting, Harry was afraid of him, Harry didn't love him anymore. How could he?

He had to make it better. He had to do everything he could to help him. He would give everything up just to see Harry okay again. Harry was looking at him carefully with his head slightly tilted to the side like a curious kitten.

Harry's heart started pounding in his ears as he reached out with a hand to touch Draco's pale cheek. He felt lost, unable to remember something important, but he didn't know what. He traced the aristocratic features with the tip of his fingers, a feeling of familiarity washed over him. The nose, the perfect pointed nose, the soft cheeks, the golden eyelashes. Draco seemed frozen in place looking cautiously at him with his breathtaking grey eyes still full of tears.

His fingers drifted lower to the pink lips and he traced them carefully images and feelings going through his brain at unimaginable speed. He startled when he realised the main feeling was fondness. He remembered entire conversations staring at those lips, hanging into every word. A stab of nostalgia and longing raced through him, clearing the fog in his mind. He traced the lips with his thumb, relishing in their texture and looked at Draco's eyes. He sighed in relief as the confusion drained away from him. This was Draco, the man who had also been scathed by the war, the most complex man Harry had ever met, his first love, his only love.

He let that feeling wash over him. A comforting warmth enveloped him and his skin became once oversensitive where it was touching the blond.

"I need to be healed?" Harry asked, confirming what he remembered through the haze.

"Yes" He rasped and Harry gave into temptation and kissed him on the lips softly, trying to convey how much he still loved him. Draco gave a surprised gasp and Harry reluctantly backed away a bit. He waited for the blond's breathing to go back to normal as he was barely able draw air in his lungs. The pain on his backside flared again and he flinched. Draco was up in a second.

"Lie on your stomach, please." Harry nodded and slowly did as he was asked. Soon a gentle finger was spreading healing salve all over the passage. It wasn't even that painful, Harry thought. The finger stayed much longer than necessary, brushing against his prostate even when all the pain was gone. He could feel Draco's breathing accelerating in time with his own but as his hand closed tightly around the sheets the finger left him and Draco turned on him back gently.

Green eyes locked on grey and for a long time they stayed like that until the blond's face came nearer until their noses where almost touching. Draco could see in Harry's eyes everything that had happened between them since the day they met, from that day so long ago when Harry Potter decided Draco Malfoy's friendship was not something worth having. How all those years he was always the one that could get Draco angry and weak. And suddenly it hit him that there was not going to be another time, another opportunity. No one would make him feel the things this man pulled out of him. Everyone else would be boring in comparison. If he didn't give this a chance, he would spend the rest of his life living in the shadow of his father and war and remorse.

He closed his eyes. Even so, he still didn't deserve him. Harry would never accept him completely. But he had to try, even if it hurt, even if it killed him, at least once. Still hovering on top of Harry he brought a hand up and gently pushed the soft bangs out of the amazing green eyes. Harry's breath sped a little and he leaned into the touch.

"Why are you still here?" he whispered and his breath teased Harry's lips.

"Because I want to be here." Harry answered instantly, then remembered the anger before... _that_. "Do you want me to be here?" Draco nodded and Harry sighed a bit in relief. The blond lowered his face to capture the other's lips in a slow, gentle kiss. The brunet's hand reached to caress the silky blond locks.

Somewhere during the kiss they had turned to be on their sides, facing each other.

"I hurt you." Draco said in a broken whisper. Harry's eyes widened at the self-loathing he saw in the grey eyes, feeling shame grip him.

"I didn't exactly dislike it, Draco." He murmured, not looking at his lover.

"What?" Draco gasped, not sure he had understood that. Harry's cheeks turned into a deep red and it pulled a surprised "oh" out of the slytherin lad. Harry was trying to hide his face and Draco absolutely could not resist stealing a deep, almost dirty kiss.

"That's kind of hot." He admitted and Harry grinned at him, his cheeks still burning.

"Not... not all the time, you know? That was a bit... intense." Harry swallowed. "But maybe we could... sometimes..."

"We?" Draco asked in confusion, Harry's kink (or his) didn't affect the fact that he had practically attacked the man. "Why? Why would you want that?" Harry considered that for a bit. The reason was simple, but he had never told that to anyone before and it scared him a bit. He took a deep breath.

"Because I love you" Draco shook his head, closing his eyes to stop all the emotions for the last months -years- to pour out of them again.

"You don't. You can't." Harry startled. Of all the answers he had imagined for this moment that certainly wasn't it. He frowned.

"What is that supposed to mean?" he waited for a long time for Draco to answer and just as he thought he wasn't going to get an answer he found himself starring directly at an ugly tattoo being shoved in his face.

"_This _is I." Draco whispered. "You don't love this."

Harry stared, shifting his gaze from the dark mark and the stormy bright eyes.

"It's not all of you…" he tried but stopped as he saw the blond scowl.

"Do you think I haven't noticed? Do you think I didn't see every time you refused to look at it in bed?"

"I…" Harry started but then he realised, he really was avoiding it. He looked at it carefully and felt all the memories of the war wash over him. "I'm sorry." He whispered and reached out to touch it with the tips of his fingers. This _was_ Draco, it was not all he was, of course, but his past was also a part of him. He kissed it and let the warmth and love he felt wash away the remaining pain. He looked at Draco's face, whose was carefully blank.

"I know you have a past and I know there is a lot of it that is hard for me to accept or to forgive but I am working on it. I also know that there is a lot of things I don't know about you and some of those things may be bad but I want to know them. I want to know you. I know I am a long way from knowing you but that doesn't mean I don't love you."

"How can you love what you don't know?"

"I… I'm not sure really." Harry examined his own feelings, and started to understand Draco's apprehension. He thought Harry couldn't possibly love him because there were things he thought awful in himself and Harry had already shown it was difficult for him to accept Draco's past. "I may not know everything about you but I think I know what really matters, a sort of basic structure of your soul or something… look, I'm no good with words but I think I know the kind of person you are, I know there is light as well as dark and I know that your dark side is more developed than in most of the people I like but that doesn't matter, because I know the light is also there, always there. I love you Draco. I love how you can be so different from me and I love how your emotions seem always more complicated than mine and I love your passion for things and I love how mature you can be about certain things and how yet others turn you into a small boy. I love when you smile for real because then maybe I can make you happy if I keep you smiling like that. I love that you can talk for hours about a single image in your head. I love that your room is full of muggle stuff even when you claimed for so long they were inferior to you. I love that you can change. I love that there is dark in you because you don't hate the dark in me."

He closed his eyes, his breathing coming fast. He had never spoken that way of his feelings. During his whole life he was told he carried his heart on his sleeve but that wasn't at all true. He never told anyone how he really felt about going to the Dursley's or how much it hurt to have people turn on him every other year. He felt exposed and vulnerable now and couldn't face Draco, whose breathing was harsher than his, but deep down he knew it was worth it. Even if things didn't turn out well for them he knew the words would help Draco in a way nothing else could. He took a deep breath and finished.

"So, maybe I don't know everything about you, but don't tell me I don't love you. Because I do, I really do." He heard Draco whimper and suddenly the blond was hugging him around the waist so tightly it was difficult to breath.

Draco was overwhelmed. He wanted it so much, he needed it so much. As he held Harry he thought he would never be able to live without this man, he wanted to merge with him, to never ever let go. He sobbed at the intensity of the feeling. The warm body in his arms was the most precious thing he would ever have.

"Merlin!" he gasped, trying to calm his heart and mind. He understood then what it meant to love someone so much it hurt. Harry hugged him back and he could feel the same desperate emotion emanating from him. Tears slipped out of his eyes again.

"Oh, Harry!" he inhaled the scent of the love of his life and more tears slipped out. "That day… In the Room of Requirement…" Harry made to move out of his hold, probably to look at him, but Draco held him ever closer. "You saved me even after all the things I had done but I…" he sobbed and thought he couldn't finish but then he felt a warm hand drawing calming circles on his back and he had enough strength to sob out: "But I would have left you there!" He sobbed harder. "I don't want to loose you. You are the most amazing person I have ever met and I can't imagine a world without you. But I would have left you to die. I would have killed you to save myself! I am completely unworthy of your love." Harry started to deny it. "No! I am! I slept with Santiago the day you went to see me there. I… I raped y…" his voice broke off and finally he let go of Harry and scrambled quickly out of bed managing only two steps away from it before collapsing to the floor, crying in earnest. "I'm so sorry!"

Harry's heart broke as he gazed on the pitiful image of Draco's naked body crumpled on the floor sobbing with a pain that tore on his very soul. He would never have imagined someone feeling this amount of guilt, much less the Slytherin Ice Prince. But this was not some far away, cold and emotionless sex god. This was his Draco, his love. He stood up and went to kneel behind the beautiful blond, wrapping his arm around the slim waist and leading the back of the blond's head to lean on his shoulder. He kissed the pale hairline and pulled the blond strands back with a loving caress. Draco screamed through clenched teeth, his eyes shut so tightly his head shook with the tension. It was a scream of pure, heart-breaking pain. Harry's tears slipped out and he cried too.

He continued to kiss Draco's hairline and ear.

"Shh… I still love you, Draco… I love you… I forgive you, love… I do…" He repeated over and over and in the blond's ear. Slowly Draco sobs started to get less violent and he started to lean more completely into Harry. After what seemed like hours he finally felt limp in Harry's arms. Harry carried him to bed and lay beside him gazing into the tear-streaked face. He would kill the next person who ever dare say Draco was evil. Someone evil could never feel this much guilt. Now Harry was sure, Draco was less evil than anyone else he knew, even himself. His friends always thought they were the image of goodness, but they manipulated people's lives, judged people and hurt people and never felt an ounce of guilt but this man right here was better than them and he, Harry, was the only one allowed to see it. He felt privileged to behold someone as beautiful as Draco was, with his tear-streaked face and puffy eyes.

* * *

"Master Draco! Master Draco! Mr. Potter!" Harry groaned and buried his face in the soft pillow underneath his head.

"I'm awake Bidy, what is it?" Harry heard Draco's sleepy, but sexy as hell, voice behind him. He wasn't asleep anymore but he stayed with his face on the pillow, not daring to believe his memories just yet.

¨Bidy is sorry to wake you, Master Draco but Mistress Narcissa told Bidy that you and Mr. Potter is joining her for lunch."

"Lunch? What time is it?"

"Twelve thirty in the afternoon, Master. Bidy is being ordered to make sure you is ready for lunch in an hour, Master."

"All right Bidy. You may go. We will be ready."

Harry didn't move even after the elf had popped out of the room. After a moment of complete stillness he felt Draco moving away from him, presumably to leave the bed. Harry reacted so quickly he didn't realise what he was doing until he had grabbed Draco wrist and was looking into the questioning grey eyes. They were both sitting up and the blond had his feet already touching the floor. Harry was kneeling by his side. He blushed and looked down to where his hand had Draco's imprisoned. Again neither of them moved.

Draco's pale and soft-looking shoulder was just in front of Harry and after a full minute of silence he leaned forward and pressed his lips to the warm skin shyly. He looked at the blond through his eyelashes just in time to see the sweetest expression on his face, one of pure devotion and love, but it was replaced by a mask of muted contentment when he realised Harry was watching.

Harry couldn't help it, laughter bubbled out of his chest and he threw himself at Draco making him fall on the bed again and started placing butterfly kisses all over his face. One of Draco's arm came to enclose his waist and the other hand went to cup his cheek tenderly. Harry stopped his kisses to look at the blond beauty underneath him and grinned. Draco smiled back.

"Hi." He whispered. Harry leaned in and sucked gently on his perfect lips, his wonderful lips.

"Hi." Harry started into the deep grey eyes for a long time, letting them fill his world. He stroked lovingly the pale cheek. "Are you alright?" Draco averted his eyes and Harry felt a pang of worry.

"Why doesn't it bother you? The things I said last night…" he trailed off, obviously unable to say them again.

"I understand why you would think this things make you a bad person, Draco, but I really don't think they do. I already knew you hated me at school, you knew it too. Anyway, I don't see my own act as a show of bravery or whatever, it's just the way I am. I would never want you to be like me, you're not, and that's just fine. And if it really bothers you, well, you said it yourself, you wouldn't do it now, so that means you changed, right?" Draco had his eyes wide open staring at Harry with amazement, so he continued.

"As for you sleeping with Santiago, well, I won't say it doesn't bother me a bit." He kissed Draco again but received no response from the blond. "But I had already accepted that I had no claim on you." His voice weakened remembering the pain, feeling it again. He suddenly felt very insecure. He had told Draco he loved him, but Draco didn't say it back. They didn't agree to be in a relationship. Harry had just assumed.

"And you didn't rape me, Draco. You asked me if it was what I wanted and I said yes. And as I remember I repeated a similar sentiment a couple of times." He leaned closer and whispered into Draco's ear: "And we've already established that it wasn't an unpleasant experience in the least. So I really don't see how you can think it was anything else than rough but entirely consensual sex."

Feeling a bit like a fool for being so exuberantly happy a few minutes early, Harry extricated himself from Draco's arms and went to retrieve his clothes. The trousers and pants were unsalvageable but the robe Narcissa had selected the previous night was fine, if a bit rumpled.

"Can I borrow some clothes?" Harry asked, not daring to look at Draco.

* * *

Draco started at Harry's arse for a long time before he could answer but after he did he noticed something was wrong. Harry wasn't the adorable man who had kissed his shoulder a few minutes early. He was distant and cold now. He frowned. Had Harry realised the things Draco had revealed really bothered him? He had been so confused and happy to know he was still wanted but now… He took a sharp breath. He was going to stop assuming things he didn't know as he had done all year. He had assumed Harry would never want him and in fact it had been so easy. He did what he should've done a long time ago. He talked.

"Hey." He called softly. The brunet turned from his position in front of the closet and lifted an eyebrow at him. His eyes were still haunted as they took in Draco's body. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Nothing is wrong." Draco got up from the bed and snatched his pants on so he wasn't quite so vulnerable. He stepped closer to Harry but didn't touch him.

"I can see it's something. We have been… no, I have been avoiding to talk anything with you for fear you would reject me. Let's not go back to that _now_."

Harry looked down and seemed to gather his courage. Then he reached out tentatively to brush his fingertips to Draco's abs.

"I want you." He said in a very small voice. Draco stepped a little closer and the fingertips became a whole hand.

"You can have me whenever you want." The blond replied in his sexiest bedroom voice. Harry shivered noticeably but shook his head as if to clear it.

"That's not what I meant. I… obviously I do want you sexually but…" he seemed to lose his nerve. Draco stepped forward still and hugged Harry by the waist, nuzzling against his neck like a cat.

"Tell me Harry. How do you want me?" Even if he knew he wasn't supposed to be thinking about sex a thousand images shot through his brain with that statement and judging by Harry's harsh breathing it had done the same to him. Lust seemed to embolden the brunet and he shifted to press his lips to Draco's ear again.

"I want you. I want all of you. I want to wake up every morning next to you. I want to be the only one allowed to do certain things, like have sex with you or look at you a certain way or hold your hand in public. I want to be the only one you think about. I want to spend the afternoons with you walking around or cuddling or just near you. I want to know you better than anyone else. I want to be there for you if you need me. I _want_ you." They both stood in each other's arm with their hearts beating like mad and their breathing fast.

"Oh."

As Harry lowered his face to press his forehead to Draco's shoulder, he felt something wet rolling down his abs and realised Harry was crying.

"I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry. I know you're not that kind of person. I know I'm always asking too much of you…"

"Shh." Draco leaned to whisper in Harry's ear. "I'll tell you a secret." He kissed the little mole behind Harry's ear lobe. _His_ mole. "I want you too"


	6. Epilogue

**A/N:** This has been pure torture to me. I was so happy when I published the last chapter because the epilogue was finnished and it was my first complete story. But then I was about to publish the epilogue and I started thinking and I knew so much was missing, there was so much more I wanted to say with this. So, the last few months I've been adding and deleting scenes in a completely obssessive and manic way. It's still not what I want it to be really, the Weasleys are still ignorant about Harry and Draco. Maybe a side story will cover that later. But right now, I just need to get rid of this before it eats me alive. It isn't corrected properly, and I know there are a lot of mistakes, please forgive me for this, but I can't keep it any longer.

Thanks to anyone and everyone that followed this story, for all the wonderful comments and the inspiration I got from them. *Hugs everyone in sight* It has been a great experience to be able to write this. Hopefully the next story will be better and more punctual. I love you all!

**Mine**

**By**

**Denebola Eltanin Black**

**Epilogue: Learning To Fly**

Hermione wiped her face of tears as she stepped out of the tall fireplace. She had just arrived from St. Mungo's, a place she had come to know thoroughly in the last few months. It was the fifth time they had to go in a hurry with a dangerously wounded Ginny in their arms in the last three months. Five times. Five times Ginny had tried to end her life, regardless of the pain she was causing around her. The monitoring spells they had placed on her had saved her but barely since she always tried to find quicker ways of ending her life. Fortunately she couldn't use the _Avada Kedavra_ because she didn't hate herself enough but that was a small comfort.

George had taken into himself the task of taking continuous care of her, which Hermione considered ironic and completely irresponsible since she doubted his own view of life varied too much from hers. This time the doctors had decided to keep her for a few weeks longer, in the hope a time away from her family would be beneficial. They could visit her for two hours once a week. The Weasleys had protested vociferously but after seeing the change in her after only a week they had accepted she did need a break.

Hermione had had the chance to talk to her for a few minutes that day and even if she knew Ginny was getting better it was still hard to see the girl.

Her relationship with Ron was going downhill. It had been for months. She had tried to wait to end it until Ginny was all right but she didn't think she could take it that long. Ron was unable to forgive her for standing up to Harry when he had hurt Ginny that much. And when Hermione suggested that Harry staying with Ginny, loving her or not, would've been even worse for her, he had screamed at her for hours. Finally it seemed he was having doubts about Hermione's fidelity. Apparently, even if he tried to hide it, he was thinking Hermione was the mysterious girl Harry was in love with. That had been the final drop and Hermione had ended it.

What wouldn't she give to know who the girl was! But, alas, it was Harry's call, not hers.

She knew Harry wasn't expecting her that day because she had told him she was spending a week in the Burrow trying to salvage her relationship but, as the 'vacations' had been cut short and she needed his comforting strength, a strength he had developed even more during the last few months, she was there unannounced.

It was still morning and he was probably still sleeping, but he wouldn't be mad at her for waking him at nine o'clock in the morning.

She walked up the polished wooden stairs of Grimmauld Place, admiring as she always did now, the beautiful works of art that hang on the long wall. The door to the main bedroom was slightly open and she stepped in quietly intending on waking him in a soft and gentle way but two steps in the room her breath caught in her throat and she froze. Harry was lying on his king-size bed but he wasn't alone. From her point of view she could see an arm, a distinctly manly arm, even if it wasn't very hairy, across his naked muscled back and a leg thrown so the thigh rested on Harry's hip. The covers were tangled and messy but they covered enough that Hermione didn't feel the need to cover her eyes as she stepped nearer.

She stopped again to think for a moment. If she went around the bed she would be able to see the _man_ but she would be violating Harry's trust. But she wasn't feeling too happy with him as he had neglected to tell her he was gay… She went around the bed and gasped. Draco Malfoy lay with his head on Harry's bent arm, his face buried in his shoulder, but still unmistakable. Harry had his other arm holding the slytherin close with his hand cupping his arse cheek through the sheets. Her childhood friend frowned in his sleep, probably disturbed by her faint gasp, he had always been easy to wake. Acting on instinct she cast a Disillusionment Charm on herself and stepped back to watch.

She couldn't believe Harry had kept something like this to himself. He had never been one to mask his emotions. Now Hermione began to doubt whether she knew him that well after all. She frowned as she saw his confused face turn into one of sleepy happiness with a wide grin spreading through it. He shifted closer to Malfoy pulling the slytherin close until he was practically on top of Harry. She heard a faint mumble that she presumed came from the blond then an unmistakable Harry chuckle.

"Hey." She heard him whisper with a tone she had never heard before coming out of his mouth. "Wake up, love." She startled at the endearment and remembered Harry saying he was in love, she had known that, she just hadn't expected it to be Draco _fucking_ Malfoy.

Malfoy seemed to have wakened because now he was straddling Harry's hips and kissing him passionately on the mouth. Hermione had to blink several times to process that development because she honestly hadn't seen him move, though her confused state of mind was probably guilty on that account. Harry was obviously not unwilling in the kiss as both his hands were now cupping Malfoy's arse and he was moaning appreciatively. _I have to get out of here_. But she was glued to the spot and her eyes widened when Malfoy started to rock back and forward sensuously, obviously rubbing their groins together.

She gaped openly; anyway, no one could see her. But, good grief they were _hot!_

Malfoy lifted his head out of the kiss and Harry protested with a nonsensical mumble, lifting his head off the pillow to chase Malfoy's mouth. Malfoy grinned and moved his hands to cup Harry's face. His thumbs caressed softly her friend's cheeks and he ran his fingers through his unruly hair. Harry was all but purring under the touch. Malfoy leaned and started to place little closed-mouth kissed on Harry's lips, never exactly in the same place and never parting too much from the mouth as if he couldn't get enough of them.

Harry was running his hands over Malfoy's legs (thankfully, still hidden by the linen sheet) and back in an almost tender caress, pulling him closer and Hermione had the distinct impression he was trying to merge their bodies together. She lowered her face, knowing now, for sure, she was witnessing an extremely private moment.

"I was having a good dream." Malfoy said, after a few minutes of relative silence, in mock anger ruined by the way he was panting.

"I noticed." Harry moaned. Hermione kept her head bowed, unable to look and unable to leave.

Their pants grew increasingly louder until Harry cried out.

"Oh god, Draco!" and obviously came. Hermione looked up for a second to see Malfoy coming too and biting into Harry's shoulder.

Hermione wanted to bang her head against the wall repeatedly to put the image of them both out of her head forever. Sex with Ron had never been something like that. It had always been awkward and unsatisfactory and it never seemed to quite fit within their lives. I had never been this easy, never this sweet and never this hot. She felt a pang of jealousy for the both of them but she also felt grateful in a way, because now she knew what sex with someone you really love looked like, she would probably recognized it if it ever happened to her. She was no longer resenting Harry for not telling her. This was so special, it was no wonder he wanted to keep it for himself and never allow anyone to ruin it, but now that she understood, she was also sure that _she_ was never going to ruin it for them.

"Good morning." Malfoy said with a smile Hermione had never thought possible for him. He looked dashing, beautiful even, and by the way Harry was looking at him, like he was the most perfect being in the earth, he noticed that too.

"It is." He replied simply.

Hermione sneaked out of the room.

* * *

Draco was standing in the kitchen of Harry's house, leaning his hips against the counter and starring at Harry who was cooking lunch. He had insisted on staying the night, a week ago, because he wanted to see where his boyfriend lived. He had yet to leave. His brain savoured the word continuously now. _Boyfriend._

The kitchen had a delicate simplicity that Draco wouldn't have expected Harry to like, and he suspected his mother's superior persuasion abilities to be responsible for it's existence. But Harry had told him he liked it and had developed a love for cooking since it was decorated like this, with light greens combined with beautiful pinewood.

The whole house was beautiful. He hadn't known it before but according to Harry the change had been almost unbelievable. Draco liked the main bedroom most and not only for the amazing orgasms he had experienced in it in the last few days. It was decorated with rich colours, and a thousand different textures but the best about it was the magically added terrace filled with magical plants and flowers and with a breath-taking view over London.

He was pulled out of his musings as Harry rolled his neck to the side as if he had a cramp. His ebony locks bounced slightly and Draco yearned to take one between his fingers to confirm it was as soft as it looked, even if he already knew it was, he needed reassurance that he hadn't imagined it all.

Suddenly he was hit by the realization he didn't need to contain that yearn and with immense satisfaction he reached out and tucked lightly on a lock close to Harry's ear.

The brunet turned his head and looked at him questioningly before grinning softly.

"It's almost ready." He said, stirring the mix slowly. As he turned back to face the stove his grin turned into a pained grimace. Draco stepped closer immediately.

"What's wrong?" he asked worriedly.

"Oh, it's nothing. I think I slept with my head in a bad position, that's all." Harry replied shrugging. Draco rolled his eyes. He would make sure Harry slept correctly in the future but right now, he would help as much as he could.

He placed himself directly behind Harry and kissed the back of his neck, his lips lingering for a few seconds. The feeling of that warm skin under his lips made his whole body feel over-sensitive. Harry's back arched just slightly but enough for Draco to know he wasn't the only one affected by the simple touch. He massaged the neck and shoulders firmly making sure to stop and give special attention to the places that made Harry moan. Slowly the stiff muscles began to relax and Draco felt giddy at the thought he was helping Harry.

Harry dropped the wooden spoon he was using to stir the sauce and reached with both his hands to still Draco's. They stayed in that position for moment until Draco leaned in and buried his face in the thick black curls breathing in to get his lungs full of the intoxicating scent. He slipped his arms around Harry's waist and held him close, relishing the thought that he could do it again and again.

"Thank you." Harry sighed caressing his arms. Draco kissed the little mole behind Harry's earlobe and let that powerful feeling of intense belonging wash through him.

"I love you Harry, more than I ever thought possible." Harry took a surprised intake of breath and manoeuvred himself until he was facing Draco, cupping his face with both hands and looking searchingly into Draco's eyes. Draco smiled and let the love he felt reflect in his eyes. Harry opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted.

"Master." Said the horrible voice of that annoying house elf Kreatcher. According to Harry he had been working in Hogwarts for months but he had called him back because apparently age was getting to the house elf. Draco closed his eyes in disappointment but opened them again as he felt Harry's lips lightly on his cheek.

"What is it, Kreatcher?" Harry asked with a tone Draco considered far too kind on the disgusting creature.

"The mudblood is in the drawing room insisting to talk to you"

"Kreatcher, I have already told you not to call her that way." The elf bowed and left the room.

"I'll be right back." Harry whispered reverently as if it was a promise to come back alive after a war. Draco smiled.

* * *

Harry's heart was still beating madly as he made his way from the kitchen to the drawing room. Draco's words repeating in his brain filled him with a giddiness he didn't know he could feel.

Suddenly he realized he hadn't even spoken to Hermione in a week, ever since the party at Malfoy Manor. It was understandable that he had forgotten as he had spent that week rather distracted by a handsome blond devil but it was strange that Hermione didn't call or visit him during that time. She had been at the Weasley's, but it was not like Hermione to just disappear.

He had already decided to tell as soon as possible about Draco because she was his best friend and she was always there for him. It was a very poor way to repay her by keeping secrets like that. And now that his relationship with Draco seemed to be in a good track to be a lasting one (hopefully until death, but Harry didn't dare hoping that much), he felt Hermione had to be in this new life he was forming. But he hadn't even thought about her during that amazing week.

"Hi!" Hermione said in an over-relaxed voice and Harry instantly tensed. That voice always indicated Hermione had a secret she didn't want to tell Harry and yet she felt guilty for not telling it. Harry eyed her suspiciously and she blushed but it hit him that he was hiding things from her too, so before he could extract the information from her he had to be clean himself.

"I have something to tell you." He stated bluntly. Her eyes widened but she nodded and sat in the royal blue armchair. He sat on the couch, close enough to convey the importance of what he was going to say but far enough to jump out of reach if she decided to strike. He didn't think Hermione would hex him or hit him but it was a natural instinct he had picked up at the Dursley's. He bit his lip, suddenly unable to think of way to say it.

"What is it Harry? What happened?" Hermione pressed after a minute, her voice was still strange but Harry didn't know what it meant anymore.

"I…" he started but lost his nerve. He looked desperately at Hermione trying to get her to say it didn't matter, he could tell her later, but she said something entirely different.

"Does this has to do with the mysterious person you left Ginny for?" she asked carefully. Harry's eyes snapped up to meet hers and, even if he didn't know how she knew that, he nodded. She sighed and it seemed it was in relief. He took a deep breath.

"I… I want to tell you who it is." He whispered weakly. His hands were shaking and he was sweating profusely. He hadn't imagined it would be this hard.

"Yes…" Hermione pressed again and now a small smile tugged at her lips.

"Its just that… well…" he hid his face in his hands and gathering all his courage he said as fast as he could: "Itsaman"

"I'm sorry Harry, you're going to have to say that again because I really didn't get that." She was grinning madly now and Harry's brain finally caught up with the suspicious behaviour. He frowned and his nervousness ebbed away enough to repeat with a soft voice, examining Hermione carefully as he said it:

"It's a man" Hermione's smile broadened and he frowned deeper. "What?" he finally demanded. Hermione bit her lip as if trying to contain her giggles.

"Oh, Harry! I'm so glad you told me! I thought I was going to have to pretend I didn't know for a lot longer."

"You knew?" Harry shrieked scandalized. A giggle escaped Hermione and she pressed her hands to her mouth, her shoulders shaking. Harry glared at her and she calmed a bit.

"Yes! I'm sorry. I didn't know he would be here! I thought you would be alone and sleeping in your room. I didn't think…" She flushed and Harry stared at her in confusion.

"You thought I was asleep in my room… when?"

"Wednesday." She looked embarrassed, troubled and amused at the same time. Harry made an effort to remember what happened on Wednesday. On Tuesday he had returned from the Manor with Draco, they had shared a bottle of fire-whiskey and fucked all night. So Wednesday morning… Harry blushed and buried his face in his hands.

"Did you get inside the room?" he whispered in mortification. Hermione took her time to answer. But eventually she sighed.

"Yes." Harry whimpered.

"Oh."

"Yes. Oh." They stayed in silence for a few minutes until Harry felt Hermione trying to get his hands out of his face and he found her kneeling in front of him. "You love him?"

Harry nodded, seeing no reason to lie.

"He loves you?"

It was impossible to hide the enormous smile that spread on Harry's face.

"Yes." Hermione smiled back.

"I think it going to take sometime to adjust to the idea of you with _Draco Malfoy_." She said putting emphasis on the name as if it was hard to say. "But if you think he's the one, then that's okay." She hugged him tightly and it took two full minutes for Harry to react and hug her back.

"Really?" He whispered, barely able to believe his luck.

"Really."

"Thanks." He pulled her closer, relishing the warmth of her. She was the best friend he could ever hope for.

"There is a reason I came to see you." Hermione said at last, when they stopped hugging.

"Oh! Right. What reason?" Trying not to show how touched he still was.

"Ginny wants to see you." Harry tensed immediately. "No, I don't think she wants to try and get you back. She seems a lot better, actually. I think she just wants… I don't know, turn the page, you know?" Harry nodded slowly, thinking about it. He could use some page turning himself.

"Okay, I'll go." Hermione smiled.

"So, where are you hiding that slytherin?" Harry smiled, feeling free for the first time in long years.

* * *

Draco climbed up the familiar stairs, no longer needing to search blindingly for the switch, he preferred to walk in the familiar darkness better than touch the dirty walls. He was careful not to let the roll of thick paper in his hands graze against the walls. He pressed his finger to the doorbell, hearing it faintly from the inside, and waited. He stood there for five minutes before ringing again. Shifting from feet to feet in what felt like an unmistakable Harry-gesture, he waited. After a moment he sighed and turned on his heel.

"Draco?" said an incredulous voice behind him at the same time the corridor was filled with light. He turned again to see a barely dressed Brian standing on the door. He was wearing a jean, which was open to reveal nothing but skin underneath and Draco could see quite a bit of dark curls there. He bit his lip and forced himself to look upward to Brian's eyes.

"I'll come back later…" he stated and started to turn again but in a flash he felt a hand on his elbow, stopping his turn.

"No!" was the quick reply of that thick, grave voice and then in a softer tone: "No, please come in, you don't have to go."

Draco doubted for a second and then decided to go inside, after all, if he was interrupting something important, Brian could've just let him go.

He entered and stopped in his tracks as a girl with very long blond curly hair yelped and covered her chest with a white shirt. Draco closed his eyes and turned to give her some privacy.

"Brian!"

"Brian…?" the girl and Draco said at the same time, her in protest and Draco in inquiry. He just chuckled.

"Get dressed, Mary, then I can make the introductions." He paused for a minute. "You can turn around Draco." His voice was heavy with amusement and when Draco turned Brian was dressed, as well as the girl. "This is Mary, she is modelling for my new painting." Draco looked at the girl, who seemed quite more impressive now she was dressed. She offered her hand and he kissed it lightly, making her smile. "And this is Draco, he is… well, he is a friend."

"Nice to meet you, Draco." She looked at his with an expression he recognised from his pureblood acquaintances; it was the look of someone evaluating the man before them before starting a determined campaign to get him to marry them. He looked at her, evaluating in turn, though not for the same reasons. She had the distinct air of coming from high breeding, great mansions and all. But he was in his sanctuary. Here, the rules of the pureblood circles, of the rules and expectations didn't apply. He placed a hand on her shoulder and said lightly.

"Not that I'm not flattered, but I am taken." How she managed to look surprised at the same time she smiled and pouted was anyone's guess, but she did.

"Are you now?" Asked Brian teasingly but Draco detected a worried tone deeply buried beneath his teasing voice.

"Oh, yes. I am." He answered and couldn't completely hide the grin that spread through his face. He saw Brian scowl before quickly covering it up with a smile of his own.

"Well, I'm glad for you." Draco narrowed his eyes, Brain had always seemed like the brutally honest kind of guy, it seemed suspicious now to see him lying.

"Thank you."

There was a heavy pause during which Draco stared at Brian and Brian stared back. There was a great distance between them getting bigger from all the things left unsaid. He had the suspicion Brian had developed some feeling for him and had been hurt both by Draco's closeness to Santiago and his relationship with Harry. Draco decided he would have to force a great, honest conversation with Brian, as he wasn't ready to give up on that friendship because of misunderstandings and misplaced feelings.

"Santiago isn't here. He went to visit his parents for the weekend." Brian stated, looking defeated. Draco sighed again, he had wanted to see Santiago and apologize, but he also hoped to see Brian and it was a bit sad that he had given the impression he cared nothing for him.

The girl, Mary, was looking curiously between them in complete silence and Draco wondered how the whole conversation would seem to her, but in the end, he really didn't care.

"That's alright, I'll talk to him when he comes back then. But…" Draco paused, feeling a bit apprehensive and then borrowed Harry's courage to continue. "I wanted to show you something if… if you are still willing to see my work…?" It ended up sounding like an insecure question and Draco scowled a bit at himself. Brian's face seemed to light up a bit as he smiled.

"Of course I'm willing!" He peered curiously at the roll of paper in Draco's hand, as he did, so did Mary and he shoot her a look. She backed away.

Slowly, Draco unrolled the paper, it wasn't big or ostentatious, just a sheet of thick drawing paper with the result of a frenzied couple of hours, but Draco thought it was the best thing he'd done so far. He gave it to Brian, who took it as if it was the most precious thing in the world and peered at it. His eyes widened and then he stared into the paper with an unreadable expression for long minutes.

Draco was beginning to worry. It had been so _different_ from what he normally did, so instinctual. Maybe he had done something horrible and childlike, he didn't think it was horrible, but he didn't have much experience in the matter. But it had felt so right. He had seen Harry lying in Draco's bed after sex one morning with the warm light from the windows covering him like a blanket and was planning to wake him up with kisses or a blow job. But when he leaned in, with one knee on the bed, Harry's eyes had popped open and he had given Draco this _look_. It was so intense Draco stopped dead and stayed still for a full minute before he went to look for his paintbrush. He hadn't even explained to Harry why they weren't having sex or why he was being completely ignored but after a fit of pouting Harry had gone to talk to Narcissa and when he came back he just took a peek at Draco's painting and went back to waiting in bed with flushed cheeks and a wide grin.

The painting itself was like and explosion of light and skin and a sort of sexual tension that was only suggested in Harry's eyes. The style was so different from what Draco usually preferred, it wasn't realistic, Harry's body was merely a mixture of light and colours, his hair melted into the pillow with no boundaries between them, the light was like a second character, actually taking form, merging with all the outlines and all the tension lines went to Harry's eyes, intense green absorbing the light and the gaze of the viewer.

Draco had been so proud of himself, he had loved the painting's ambiguous forms and curved lines but now he thought maybe he had been a bit quick on his judgement.

When Brian finally looked up his eyes were still wide. He opened his mouth and then closed it again. Draco was staring right at him, waiting for his judgment. He hadn't realized how much he wanted his teacher to approve, but he thought it was quite normal to want it.

Mary, apparently too curious to stay still, peered from behind Brian's shoulder and tilted her head, raising her eyebrows.

Brian opened his mouth again and finally words came out of it.

"Wow… I mean…" he frowned. "This is great Draco. It's really good." Draco let out a breath he didn't know he was holding but the noticed Brian was still frowning.

"What's wrong?" he hated the fact his voice sounded so weak. Brian shook his head as if to clear it.

"No, nothing is wrong. It's just… so _different_. I've been seeing you paint for weeks and you never even showed a desire to stray from pure realism. I just find it hard to see you painting this. It has so much _feeling_ and that was what you always lacked. I'm sorry…" Draco shook his head.

"Don't be sorry, I like that you are honest with me." He smiled. "I guess I never felt so compelled to paint something, I just _had_ to put it somewhere, it couldn't stay in my head, you know?" Brian nodded then stared at Draco and then slowly, very slowly, he smiled. Carefully he placed the painting in Mary's hands and caught Draco in a tight hug.

"I'm really glad for you." He said and this time Draco knew he meant it. He hugged back. Maybe that conversation wasn't needed anymore.

* * *

Harry leaned on the doorframe and looked at Ginny. She was sitting on the bed with her hair falling around her face in curls as her head was bowed. Draco was beside him, leaning on the wall outside the hospital room and out of Ginny's site. He had been unmovable about coming but secrecy was necessary as none of the Weasleys knew about them yet and it would be quite inconsiderate to shove it in Ginny's face right now anyway.

"How are you, Ginny?" He asked softly, not daring to come closer. Her eyes shot up in surprise and she blushed furiously. She didn't look bad, though Hermione had told him she had had very terrible times since she first entered the hospital but now she was wearing jeans and a pink t-shirt and she looked healthy.

"I'll be alright, eventually." Her eyes bore into his and he saw something he had never seen in them before. It was the look that only old people have when they are finally at ease with themselves. It wasn't really happiness or even peace, it was just the look of someone who knew themselves and accepted what they saw. He felt happy for her now that he was sure she would be all right. "I don't want you to blame yourself for what happened."

"I'm not blaming myself." He had felt a bit guilty when he had heard of her first attempt of suicide but thanks to Draco, Hermione, Mrs. Malfoy and long hours of meditation he had concluded that he would've hurt her more by staying with her and _believed _it.

"Good." She sighed.

"I have met a lot of people in here, you know?" Harry nodded. "And they have helped me a lot. I think around the third time I came I realized what the problem really was." Harry wanted to stop her and say that he didn't need an explanation. That it was something that belonged to her and only to her. But she probably knew that now and she wanted to tell him anyway. "I blamed you a lot at first, thinking you were a heartless son of a bitch and then I wanted nothing more than to die because I didn't know what to do with my life if you weren't in it. I just… I was so _convinced_ I couldn't live without you. I actually thought my heart would stop that day when you left. Around the third time I realized that I had been so devoted to you I had nullified myself, I was your girlfriend and nothing else, that's since I was ten years old. All the time others spend growing up and finding themselves I was only your girlfriend, even if I really wasn't, in my mind I always was. I realized I had no idea who I was at all." She let out a shaky breath and looked away, out of the window. Light caught in the only tear that fell down her cheek. "Do you know how hard it is to wake up one day and have no idea who you are, what you like, what you're going to do with your life?"

Harry nodded again and felt his heart tighten at her worlds. He knew that feeling. He had felt that way the morning after he killed Voldemort. But he was fine now. Thanks to Draco in a large part but also thanks to himself. He had decided to go on with his life; he had decided to search for whatever was missing. Ginny had done that in her own way, it was hard, probably the hardest thing they would ever have to do but now he was sure, she was going to be fine in the end.

"I still don't know really. I know that I didn't love you as much as I thought; I was just obsessed with you. I know that I like poetry" She smiled a bit at that and he returned it. "And I know that I want to live to see where life will take me. For now I think that's enough." And Harry knew she wasn't lying. He went forward and hugged her tightly.

"I'm glad to hear that." He whispered and then he decided that she had been honest with him, it was only natural to do it in return. "There is something I need to tell you too."

She looked at him curiously and smiled warmly. "What is it?"

"Remember…" he bit his lip, perhaps it wasn't wise to tell her now. But then he forged on, she was strong enough now and he wanted her as a friend. "That day I went to the Burrow… I told I was in love."

She averted her eyes once more but said: "I remember. What happened to her? The girl you loved."

"Well…" She turned to look at him and then she laughed.

"You're still with her!" She hugged him again. "Are you happy, Harry? Does she make you happy?"

"Yes." He said with all the devotion and sincerity he felt, which was a lot. Ginny smiled.

"I'm so happy for you Harry." Then her eyes gleamed with a sort of eagerness Harry didn't recognize until she whispered. "Come on, don't be shy, tell me all the juicy details." He laughed then, amazed at how well she was taking it.

"Well, there is one rather important detail…" He began and couldn't help but being nervous.

"Tell me, tell me!" That, Harry thought, was one thing he couldn't really understand about women, they were so gossipy! Yes, Harry could find some pleasure in having a bit of gossip, but this was at another level completely.

"It's not a _she._" He said looking at Ginny intently. Her jaw dropped and her eyes bulged. Then her shoulders started shaking and Harry wondered for a second if she was going to cry but then she started laughing and laughing as if she had never heard something funnier in her life.

"Oh! Harry!" he gasped out in between fits of laughter. "That makes so much sense!"

She didn't explain that statement even when he asked about it in later years. But that day she laughed for ten whole minutes and then, as she calmed down she managed to ask:

"Who is the lucky guy then?" He hesitated before answering but she had taken it so well until now.

"Draco!" he called and Draco came in, still managing to make Harry breath hitch at the look of him. He was so fucking beautiful! He smiled wickedly at Harry and then nodded to Ginny whose jaw was somewhere near the floor.

"Ginevra." He greeted with ease and took her hand to kiss it. Ginny looked at Harry and he knew he looked completely smitten with the blond. She finally blinked out her surprise and stared at her hand with her head cocked to the side in deep thought. Then she looked at Draco with a look so severe Harry had a vision of McGonagall and Mrs. Weasley in their greatest rage combined.

"You hurt him and I'll kill you." She whispered harshly. Draco only smiled and bowed deeply to her. Harry observed the whole exchange through his shock but his brain seemed to stop working for a minute. Ginny's face changed in a matter of seconds and she was smiling again. She bent forward a bit and kissed his cheek. "I'm glad for you." She whispered and then she hugged him again. "We're going to be Ok. We're going to be just fine."

Harry held out a hand to take Draco's and as he held it he knew that it was the truth.

**FIN**


End file.
